


Party Tricks

by im_patelling_you_to_stop



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It just happened, because david is an asshat, but veronica comes to the rescue don't worry, i didn't try to ship it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-06-22 12:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 26,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15581889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_patelling_you_to_stop/pseuds/im_patelling_you_to_stop
Summary: This is set during Kurt and Ram's party in the musical. What would have happened if Veronica had "given the people what they wanted?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> listen i am fully aware that heather chandler is a mythic bitch. she grows, i promise. i'm not gonna let veronica get stuck in an abusive relationship, pinky swear. we cool?

When Veronica saw the pig in Heather Duke's hands, she knew she had to stop it. She didn't know how, but she knew she did. In a fit of desperation, she grabbed onto its front legs, ending up in a tug of war match with the Heathers, Chandler jumping in front of Duke, the center of attention as always. As their classmates began to chant, "Kiss kiss kiss," inspiration struck. Without a second thought, Veronica roughly collided her lips with none other than Heather Chandler's. There was a beat of silence. Heather froze against her lips. Then, the crowd of drunken teenagers cheered, and Heather kissed back. 

The pinata lay on the ground, long forgotten. When Heather pulled back, the smirk on her face made it clear that she knew exactly what Veronica hd just done but was graciously allowing it to happen. She almost looked... impressed? She grabbed a nearby solo cup and raised it high.

 "To Veronica's new party trick," she toasted. 

"To Veronica!" Kurt and Ram yelled, downing whatever was left of their beers and looking like all their dreams had come true. 

"Way to give the people what they want," Heather whispered as she strutted past Veronica, who quickly shook off the urge to touch her fingertips to her lips. Yeah. That's all it had been. Giving the people what they wanted to protect Martha.

Martha walked over to her, the bandana hanging around her neck, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

"Why did you just make out with Heather Chandler?" she asked.

Veronica shrugged.

"Everyone wanted me to."

Martha's eyes landed on the pig pinata. Veronica cringed as the girl visibly deflated. 

"Oh."

Veronica shifted her weight from one foot to the other. 

"Want me to drive you home?" she asked, placing a comforting hand on her friend's arm.

Martha let out a dry chuckle.

"No offense, Veronica, but you're plastered. Didn't Heather drive you here, anyway?"

"Oh yeah," Veronica said dumbly. "Well, do you want me to come with you? I can leave now."

"No, you looked like you were having fun," Martha said sadly, her eyes glossy. "I wouldn't wanna ruin that."

"Martha..." Veronica trailed off, not sure what to say. On the one hand, she wanted to assure her friend that she wasn't ruining anything. On the other, she was probably on thin fucking ice with the Heathers already, and leaving the party early would not help. Heather might have played off the kiss in front of everyone, but who's to say how she would react in private.

"Movie night next Friday?" she asked instead.

"If you can get out of Heather duty," Martha said, as bitterly as Martha could say anything.

"I'll call in sick if I have to," Veronica said, the corner of her mouth turning up slightly.

"Okay," Martha agreed. "Next Friday."

Veronica stumbled back to the party, drunk off of vodka, jello shots, and the taste of Heather Chandler's lip gloss. She shook the thought out of her head, opting to go sit by the pool, her toes dipped in the edge of the water. To sober up. Not because she was avoiding anyone.

As her notoriously bad luck would have it, she really overestimated how long it would take for the person she was totally not avoiding to find her and was consequently scared shitless when a familiar voice rang out behind her.

"You know, for a first kiss, that was actually pretty good," Heather said, kicking off her six inch heels to settle beside Veronica on the edge of the pool.

"How would you know it was my first kiss?" Veronica asked, not daring to look up at the demon queen sitting next to her.

"Please, Veronica," she scoffed. "You were a virgin-y loser in an ugly ass scarf before I found you. Do you really expect me to believe you were out there, getting it on?"

"For your information, my first kiss was with a boy named Patrick or Peter or something in the seventh grade."

"Did he kiss you or just bump his lips into your lips?" Heather raised an eyebrow.

Veronica flushed, prompting a triumphant cackle.

"You're with the most popular clique in school, Ronnie. Learn to take a backhanded compliment without turning it into a mini debate."

Veronica scowled at the ground, kicking lightly at the water and watching the ripples stem out from her foot. Heather gently nudged her shoulder, which had to be the most affectionate thing Veronica had ever seen her do.

"Seriously, though," Heather continued. "You're already a better kisser than Kurt and Ram. It's like they think making out is just shoving their tongue down your throat as fast as humanly possible. Besides, you're prettier than the both of them combined."

"Uh, thanks?" Veronica said awkwardly.

Heather rolled her eyes and swung her legs out of the pool.

"Jesus, you have the self confidence of the ugly duckling. You're with the swans now, Veronica. Act like it."

And with that, she stalked off back into the house, the crowd of people on the porch parting for her like the red sea. Veronica sat there, stumped. Maybe the ice wasn't was thin as she thought.

 

***

 

Veronica barely slept that night. Try as she might, she just couldn't get Heather Chandler out of her thoughts. Locking lips with the strawberry blonde had ignited some kind of spark in Veronica. God, why couldn't she just like that JD kid. Sure, he may have a weird thing about 7/11, but he seemed nice enough, and well read, and intriguing, and he was actually interested in her. Plus, he was a boy.

Just because Veronica had come to terms with her bisexuality didn't mean everyone else would. Martha had been cool with it, but that was Martha. She saw what it was like for the kids at school who were even suspected of being gay, and she didn't really feel like being dragged back down the social hierarchy, especially since school was finally not a waking nightmare. If Heather ever figured out Veronica had even the slightest of feelings for her, she'd crucify her. 

At 8 a.m., she gave up entirely on sleep and decided to write instead. She was in the middle of complaining to the pages of her diary about how unfair it was that she liked Heather Chandler of all people when a horn honked downstairs.

"Shit," she cursed to herself. Heather was here to pick her up for the mall.  _Heather_ Heather.

She looked out the window at the red Porsche in her driveway and panicked, throwing on the first pair of high waisted jeans she could find and a crop top that was lying on the top of her clean laundry pile before rushing out the door just in time to find Heather laying on the horn. When Heather caught sight of her, she immediately got out of the car and grabbed Veronica's wrist, dragging her back inside.

"God, you really can't accessorize for shit," she mumbled, pulling off the charm bracelet that Martha had gotten her, something Veronica hadn't even realized she was wearing, and grabbing a chain necklace with a little silver eagle hanging from it, something she'd bought for Veronica. "Or do makeup. I could pack all my emotional baggage under your eyes. Do you even own concealer?"

She huffed, turning the stool to the vanity sideways and pushing Veronica down onto it before straddling the front end, rifling through the drawers. Veronica's heart pounded in her chest as she eyed the inch and a half of space between her and Heather, who was now rubbing the concealer in with quiet annoyance. Veronica stared, lost in everything that was Heather Chandler only to be brought out of her trance by a couple of snaps in her face. 

"Hell-o? Earth to Veronica? We need to motor. Heather and Heather are waiting for us."

Veronica nodded and stumbled off the stool following Heather down the stairs and trying not to stare at her ass.

The car ride was surprisingly not awkward, which was mostly credit to Heather, who was acting completely normal. That is to say, she was just as bitchy and quick witted as always. She claimed to keep Veronica around because of her forgery talents and bone structure, but Veronica was starting to suspect that the real reason was the easy banter they seemed to have (when Veronica wasn't drunk off her ass). McNamara wasn't the most quick witted, and any banter Duke and Chandler had quickly turned into biting insults, but she and Veronica had just the right amount of teasing in their sharp words and had developed an easy rhythm of quips pretty quickly.

They got to the mall soon enough and found the other Heathers in the food court, their standard meet up place.

"So, Veronica, we've got a treat for ou this weekend," Chandler started. "Your first Remington party."

McNamara squeezed her hand from across the table and made a "my little girl is growing up" kind of face.

"Well, I kind promised Martha we'd have a movie night this Friday," Veronica said, rubbing the back of her neck.

"You're still hanging out with that loser?" Duke scoffed. 

"Shut up, Heather."

"Sorry, Heather." Duke hung her head, and McNamara gave her a discreet smile, trying to offer some form of comfort without getting chastised as well.

"Anyway," Chandler said. "You're luck the Remington party's this Saturday, or you and Dumptruck would've had to reschedule."

"Could you maybe stop calling her Dumptruck?" Veronica asked, trying to be stern but ending up sounding pleading.

"And why the hell would I do that?" Heather raised her chin in a kind of challenge.

"Because she's my friend, and I don't appreciate you making fun of her."

Heather seemed to consider this for a moment.

"If it'll get you to shut up, she'll be Dunstock to her face and Dumptruck behind her back," Heather decided. "But that's the best you're gonna get."

Veronica, who had been fully expecting another rendition of the infamous "Candy Store" lecture, sat in stunned silence, confused as to how that had worked in any way, shape, or form. The other Heathers looked just as dumbstruck.

"Okay!" she said quickly before Heather could take it back.

Heather smiled at her.

"Don't say I never did anything for you," she quipped, standing up and starting towards an expensive looking boutique, the other three hot on her tail. 

"How the fuck did you do that?" Heather Duke whispered, both jealous and in awe.

"I have absolutely no idea," Veronica whispered back, "but I'm not about to question it."

 

***

 

The Remington party was bigger than Kurt and Ram's house parties, but really, it wasn't as big as she'd thought it would be. The way the Heathers hyped up these parties, she thought they'd be a little more wild than a bunch of college kids spread out among several rooms in a student housing facility, some playing pool, some playing cards, some drinking, some already drunk. There was a small dance floor set up in one of the rooms, blocked off by a couple of couches that were serving as barriers. 

Heather Chandler introduced her to a couple of guys, David and Brad. The both gave off sleezeball vibes, so Veronica made sure to watch her drink whenever they, or any other frat guys for that matter, were around. 

Veronica spent most of her time sitting by the makeshift bar, playing speed with Heather Duke and watching Heather McNamara get drunk. For most of the night, she wasn't concerned for Heather Chandler in the slightest. She didn't think she had to be. Then, she saw her being tugged upstairs by who she thought was David (but it could've been Brad, she didn't care enough to keep them straight). She almost didn't realize it was Heather at first. The girl being pulled up the stairs looked hesitant and more than a little afraid. Heather was neither of those things. She was confident and cocky and downright fearless at Westerburg. Setting down her cards, Veronica started to go after her. Just before David could pull Heather into an empty room, Veronica grabbed onto her wrist.

"Who wants to see me and Heather's party trick?" she yelled. 

A group of horny college guys nearby looked up to see two young, hot high school girls holding hands and immediately started to agree. One of them even helped both Heather and Veronica up onto the pool table, effectively out of David's grasp. Veronica took a deep breath, winked at the guy who had helped them onto the table, and kissed Heather deeply, just as she had done before. This time, Heather reciprocated immediately, all of the fear from earlier pouring out into a kiss that was probably more desperate than it should've seemed, especially since they were just doing this for entertainment. The college guys cheered and started to count down from thirty. Veronica just went with it, kissing Heather like her life depended on it until they finished the countdown and erupted into applause. 

The other Heathers stood to the side, looking a little confused as to why Veronica had brought out this particular "party trick" again. Veronica gave them a look that said, "tell you later" and they nodded slightly, heading back to the bar. 

It was only when Veronica was helping Heather off the pool table that she noticed her hands were shaking, and although she was smiling at the crowd that had gathered around them, it was more fake than Heather Duke's boobs. Veronica noticed the glassy look in her eyes and decided to take matters into her own hands.

"Alright, fellas, it's getting late. We had a hell of a time, though," she said, grabbing both her and Heather's coats and ushering the other girl to the door, nervous about how easily she was allowing herself to be pushed around. Duke and McNamara, who had noticed something was wrong, grabbed their coats and made their way towards the exit as well.

"Please invite us back soon!" Veronica called over her shoulder. 

"If you keep doing tricks like that, you're welcome back any time," one of the guys yelled back. 

When the door shut behind him, Veronica turned around to find two pairs of eyes on her. She looked to her left, at Chandler, who was still very out of it, and realized that Duke and McNamara were waiting for her to tell them what to do. After all, she had been the one calling the shots since... Well, since whatever had happened with Heather and David. 

"Alright, I'm gonna take her home," Veronica decided. "She's being oddly compliant, so I'm sure she'll let me drive tonight. Then, I'll try to see if I can get her to tell me what happened-" she was cut off by Heather Chandler.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here."

"Sorry, Heather," all three said in unison. 

"Mc, Duke, I'm going to let Ronnie take me home. You are free to go now."

The other two shrugged and climbed into Heather Duke's jeep, leaving Chandler and Veronica alone. 

"Are you gonna tell me what happened?" Veronica asked. Heather didn't answer, just walked to her Porsche and got in the passenger seat, chucking the keys to Veronica.

"Take me home."


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Heather did when they got to her house was shower. She stalked out of the car, up the steps, and into the bathroom, not bothering to close any doors behind her, even after she'd started stripping. Veronica managed to get the bathroom door closed before she could really invade Heather's privacy and proceeded to sit on Heather's bed, flipping through a magazine on her night stand, reading but not taking anything in. The shower ran for forty minutes. When it was finally shut off, Veronica heard muffled sobs coming from the bathroom. Reluctantly, she opened the door. 

"Heather?" Veronica said, slowly stepping into the bathroom, her footsteps muffled by her socks. 

"Ronnie?" Heather's voice was weaker than Veronica had ever heard it. There was no bite, no command, none of the usual arrogance, not even a healthy dose of confidence. She was curled up into a ball, sitting on the floor of the shower, her silhouette just barely visible from behind the deep red shower curtain. 

"Heather, what happened? You're scaring me." Veronica stepped closer until she was standing just outside the shower. Heather pulled the curtain back just enough to poke her mascara stained face out.

"You can't tell anyone," she said, trying to muster up as much Heather Chandler gumption as she still had in her. "Promise?"

"Heather, did he hurt you? Did David-"

"Promise?" Heather cut her off, more insistent this time. 

"Fine." Veronica's shoulders slumped. "I promise. Now get dressed and tell me what's going on." 

Soon enough, they were seated on Heather's bed, Heather clad in her bright red robe, shaking just a little. Veronica slid up until her back was against the headboard and patted the spot next to her, pulling back the covers so that she could effectively tuck heather in up to her waist. 

"David doesn't listen to me," Heather said, picking at her bedspread in a fashion that was just so unlike Heather. "Kurt and Ram, when I tell them no, when I tell them I've had enough, hell, when I tell them to deliver a note to Martha Dump- Dunstock, they listen. David doesn't do any of that." 

"What do you mean, he doesn't listen when you tell him no?" Veronica asked, though she was afraid she already knew the answer. Heather took a shaky breath.

"It's always been okay until tonight. Usually, he'll just kiss my neck or slip his hand under my shirt a little because we're hanging with a group and he doesn't wanna look bad, and if I look too uncomfortable, and we're around other girls, they'll stop him without letting him know they're stopping him. But tonight..." she trailed off, looking up at Veronica, who gave her an encouraging nod and grabbed one of her hands. Heather looked down and, much to Veronica's surprise, intertwined their fingers. "Let's just say, tonight, you really saved my ass." 

"You looked scared," Veronica said, daring to scoot closer so that their thighs were touching. "Heather Chandler doesn't get scared." 

"She does when an older boy runs his hand up her thigh and won't take no for an answer," Heather said bluntly. She looked like she was about to start crying again. "When he slipped his hand under my skirt, I told him there was no way in hell I was flashing all of his friends. I thought maybe that would save me. But he just got this... this look in his eye. And he went... he wanted... he said privacy would be better anyway, and he told me to follow him, and then he grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the staircase, and I didn't know where we were going, but I really,  _really_ didn't want to go there, Ronnie." 

By this point, Heather had gotten herself worked up again. Unsure of how to handle a crying Heather Chandler, Veronica pulled the (slightly) shorter girl into her lap and wrapped her arms around her waist, allowing Heather to essentially cling to her like a koala. 

"Shhh, babe, it's okay now. I've got you. You're safe now." 

Heather continued to cry into Veronica's neck, probably staining Veronica's top with her makeup, but Veronica couldn't find it in herself to care about some stupid top when Heather was breaking down on her lap. Finally, Heather pulled back just enough to look at Veronica, not bothering to slide off of her. 

"God, Veronica, look at me. You must think I'm such a pillowcase." 

"Yeah, well, there are some things in live even demon queens are allowed to cry over," Veronica said. 

Heather shook her head in disbelief. 

"Why are you being so nice to me? I'm literally such a bitch to you all the time. Like, I make fun of you, and call your friends mean nicknames, and I'm always bossing you around, yet here you are. Why didn't you just let David... Why didn't you just leave me?"

"Heather, look at me," Veronica said, searching for Heather's gaze until icy blue eyes finally stared back at her. "No mean nicknames, no amount of bossing me around, no bitchy high school drama would ever make me leave you in a situation like that. Sure, sometimes you can be a royal pain in the ass, but that doesn't mean you deserve  _that_."

Heather dropped her gaze, and Veronica looked at her in disbelief. 

"There's no way you can think you deserve that." 

"It's just a price you pay for being at the top of the food chain." 

Veronica scoffed and tightened her grip on Heather's waist subconsciously. 

"No, it's not, and whoever told you that should be in fucking prison." A sudden realization struck her. "That's why you keep going to these parties and keep hanging out with David, even though you know what he's like. You've got to keep up appearances."

Heather nodded, and Veronica felt the odd urge to pull her closer, but fought that off. She was already closer to Heather than she had ever been. She didn't want to push her luck. However...

"Lucky for you, I found another way for us to get into those parties," she said suggestively. She saw Heather's lips curl up into a wicked grin, a sign that the Mythic Bitch was coming back to life. 

"Party trick," she said in a sing-songy voice. "I'd kiss you over David any day."

Veronica felt her heart rate pick up at that, but she forced herself to stay collected. 

"Veronica Sawyer, I could kiss you," Heather Chandler announced, seeming giddy at the prospect of never having David's tongue shoved down her throat ever again. 

Despite what every cell in her body was saying, Veronica said, "Save it for the next party." The way Heather's face lit up at the words made it clear it had been the right thing to say. 

 

***

 

Keeping a secret, practically forbidden crush under control was a lot harder when you spent your Saturday nights making out with them. Ever since she and Heather had started making out at the end, the Heathers had been invited to more Remington parties than some of the actual college students. While Remington parties had been more of a once a month thing before, they had started to get invited almost every week. Fortunately for Veronica, that meant they attended Kurt and Ram's shitty parties a lot less, keeping Friday nights open for movie night with Martha more often than not. They went to the occasional rager, mainly because the other kids there treated Heather even more like royalty and she loved it, but partly to maintain the perfectly crafted relationship with Kurt and Ram, who were arguably the most popular guys in school. 

"Besides," Heather had said as she applied her lipstick. "It's nice to hang out with the plebeians every once and awhile."

Heather had also taken to making out with her at those parties as well, which made things even more confusing since they weren't expected to, but it still took place in front of a bunch of sweaty boys, so Veronica took it as Heather putting on a show, something she was prone to do. 

David hadn't come near Heather since that night, and it was later revealed that Duke had threatened to break his kneecaps with the tailpipe of his own car if he ever touched her again. She still didn't know the full extent of what David had done, but the fear in Heather's eyes when she had left the party was enough. Duke had waited for Heather to chastise her, maybe to yell even, but Heather had simply laughed. There hadn't been any more "shut up, Heather"s since the incident. Veronica and McNamara threw a secret party for Duke in Veronica's backyard about it and even went so far as to bake a cake. Heather was still none the wiser. 

So, aside from some very confusing feelings, things were actually going really well. Which naturally meant things had to go to shit. It was all that JD kid's fault. 

Veronica had never seen Heather jealous over anyone before, and she sure as hell didn't expect the first time she did to be over her. Then again, she'd never seen someone try to poach one of Heather's friends right outside a Remington party. 

JD's motorbike sputtered to a stop next to the asphalt that Veronica was currently walking on, hurriedly trying to get inside before Heather got mad at her for being late. Well, later than late. It was Martha's birthday today, so Veronica had promised to be at the party by nine instead of seven thirty, like usual. That shouldn't have been a problem, though, since she and Heather didn't usually do their trick until the party was dying down a bit. 

"Greetings and salutations," JD called out to her. Not wanting to be rude, Veronica reluctantly turned around and smiled at him. She really did get along with JD, and they were already becoming pretty good friends, so although a little tight, her smile was genuine. 

"Hey, dude! I can't talk right now, gotta meet Heather inside. I promised her I'd be in there in like ten minutes."

"Can't you just ditch tonight?" JD asked, revving his bike playfully. "We could got get a slushie. And maybe some Red Vines? You seem to like those."

"As tempting as that sounds, I can't ditch a Remington party," Veronica said. "Raincheck, though? I do love Red Vines."

JD frowned, his gaze trained on someone behind Veronica. She looked over her shoulder to find Heather marching out towards them. She didn't look happy per se, but she also didn't look pissed, so that was a good sign. 

"Don't you see she's just using you?" JD practically spat. "She brings you along to every single one of these parties so she can make out with you for a bunch of bonehead frat boys. You're like her insurance."

Veronica had to physically bite her tongue to keep from saying,  _What if I don't particularly mind being used?_ Instead she just shrugged.

"It's whatever. She's a good kisser, there's free alcohol, Duke and I get to play speed. Really, my Saturday nights could be worse." 

Just as she finished her sentence, she felt an arm wrap around her waist, which was odd. Heather rarely showed affection, and she was never this bold about it, besides when they were sucking face for the perverted college dudes. 

"Hey, Ronnie," she said lowly before turning her attention towards JD. "Jesse James. Quelle surprise. Were you invited to this party?" 

He gave her a kind of half glare, something about his gaze telling Veronica that he understood more about this interaction than she did, before revving his bike again. 

"Actually, I was just leaving." He tipped an imaginary hat. "G'night, Veronica. Lemme know when you wanna get that slushie." 

Veronica waved as he pulled away, hyper aware of Heather's arm that was still snaked around her waist. 

"I don't want you to get a slushie with him," Heather said, almost reluctantly, like she already knew Veronica was going to put up a fight.

"Well it's a good thing you don't own me because I was looking forward to it," Veronica retorted, jutting out her chin. "He promised to buy me Red Vines."

Heather rolled her eyes.

"Can I at least come then?"

Veronica raised an eyebrow at this, slipping out of Heather's grasp to look her in the eye.

"You, Heather Chandler, wanna come with me and JD, who you don't even like, to a 7/11 to buy gas station slushies and candy?" 

"God, you make it sound awful," Heather teased. There was an underlying nervousness in her tone, as if she was worried Veronica would say no. "I'm not opposed to a gas station slushie, though. I've been on enough road trips to know they're kinda underrated. ICEE is better though."

"Road trips with who?" Veronica asked. "Mc and Duke?"

"My parents," Heather said. Veronica smiled slightly. Heather never really talked about Mr. and Mrs. Chandler, and they were rarely home. Either that, or they were hiding somewhere else in the house, far away from their teenage daughter and her friends. Their lack of presence in Heather's life really explained how she got away with so much. 

"Let me stay over tonight," Veronica said impulsively. "I wanna hear about your family road trips."

"They sucked." Heather stuck out her tongue. "They were business trips."

"Well, I wanna hear about 'em." Veronica was nothing if not persistent. "C'mon, we can make a truth-telling game out of it or something. You can ask me questions, too, if you want."

Heather was still looking at her like she'd suggested they skinny dip in the fountain a few feet away. 

"Please," Veronica tried, dragging out the vowels. "Please, pretty please, with whipped cream and a cherry on top."

"Fine," Heather grumbled. "But don't tell the others. I don't want to play Honesty Hour with any more people than necessary."

Veronica pumped her fists triumphantly, which Heather rolled her eyes at, before following the taller girl inside. As soon as her feet crossed the threshold, a horde of football players, jerseys and all, began to cheer and chant, "Kiss, kiss, kiss," bringing back memories of the first time Veronica had pulled this stunt. Heather looked at her, one hand slowly moving to cup Veronica's cheek as she mouthed,  _give the people what they want_. So Veronica did.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first part of this chapter, things are great as ever. the second part, get ready for aNgSt.

"So, you can either answer the question or do the shot," Veronica finished explaining, gesturing towards the bottle of vodka nestled in between a few of the pillows on Heather's bed. Her "Honesty Hour" with Heather, as it had now been dubbed, was about to start, and while Heather's smirk made it clear she had a ton of super invasive, gossipy questions to ask Veronica, Veronica just genuinely wanted to get to know more about Heather, who, in addition to the smirk, had a kind of evil glint in her eye.

"Y'know what would make it more interesting?" She arched an eyebrow. "Body shots."

"Heather," Veronica trailed off, knowing her stupid crush was only going to get ten times worse if Heather licked salt off of her neck. Heather crossed her arms and sat up a little straighter on the bed, going so far as to cock her head to the side pointedly. "Fine."

Heather clapped her hands together in triumph.

"Okay. You first."

"Tell me your favorite part lame business roadtrips," Veronica requested.

"The gas station candy, duh." A ghost of a fond smile played on Heather's lips.

"Least favorite?" Veronica asked, and Heather smiled coyly.

"One question at a time, Ronnie. It's my turn. Still a virgin I presume?"

"Why would you ask a question you already know the answer to?" Veronica said, flushing.

Heather tsked.

"Well, you and that JD character seem pretty close. I just wanted to make sure."

"He's just a friend. Sure, I thought he was cute at first, but..." She bit back the,  _I really like somebody else_ , "that's it."

The evil glint in Heather's eye was back. Veronica swallowed. 

"Okay, least favorite part of the road trips?"

"Shall I make a list?" Heather rolled her eyes. "Let's see... there was my parent's constant bickering, being ignored and left to entertain myself in the back seat for hours. There's only so much joy a seven year old can find in staring out a window. There's the fact that the reason we went on these trips as a family in the first place is because my mom wanted to accompany my dad to make sure he wasn't cheating on her when he was out of town, which he was prone to doing before. It just all sucked." 

She looked nervously at Veronica, her eyes filled with regret, like she had revealed too much. 

"Whatever. Enough about that. Why are you and JD  _just friends_ if you thought he was cute? Haven't I taught you to go for what you want?"

"Oh, no, I don't want JD," Veronica was quick to contradict her. Another hard swallow. "I, uh, I kind of... well, y'see... I like somebody else, and it's hard to want JD when this person is just so... I don't know."

Heather propped her chin the palm of her hand, leaning forward. 

"I'm intrigued. Who is this person?"

"One question at a time," Veronica said, echoing Heather's earlier words back to her. Heather hummed noncommittally. That odd, proud look from the night she had distracted the party from Martha's inevitable humiliation was back. "Anyway, uh, you always seem like you can just kinda do whatever. You said your parents ignore you? Do they even know I'm here?"

"Honey, the don't even know I went to a party tonight. They never bothered to ask."

Usually, Veronica would have something to say about that, whether it be probably misplaced pity or a comment about how her own parents never missed an opportunity to pry, but right now, all that Veronica's ragingly bisexual brain could focus on was the fact that Heather Chandler had just called her "honey." Dammit, she was in way too deep. The evil smirk on Heather's face startled her from the gay haze crowding her brain. 

"So, who is this mystery hottie that you like?"

Veronica looked at the vodka, then at Heather, who looked equal parts amused and disappointed, then back at the vodka. Sighing, she unscrewed the cap and poured herself a shot. Heather busied herself with dusting a thin layer of salt over her collarbone. She tilted her head back. 

"Alright. Lick me clean." 

Veronica's heart pounded in her chest as she leaned forward, her hands on either side of Heather's legs, supporting her. She took a deep breath, licked the salt, then tipped the salt back almost immediately, grabbing a lime from the platter at the foot of the bed. 

"Okay, my turn," she blurted out, smacking her lips, the sourness of the lime unpleasant in her mouth. "I've always wondered, how do you keep Kurt and Ram in line?"

Heather smirked.

"If I told you that," she said, filling her shot glass, "I'd have to kill you." 

Veronica sat motionless on the bed. Heather was about to do a body shot off of her. She hadn't thought this far ahead. Veronica held her breath as the other girl unbuttoned her shirt just enough so that the collar wasn't in the way of her neck, pressing salt grains into Veronica's skin. Heather leaned even closer, licking the salt up Veronica's neck torturously slowly. Veronica shuddered. If Heather noticed, she didn't show it. She simply did the shot, sucked on the lime, and leaned back on her elbows. 

"I'm tired," Heather said. "This is the last question before we go to bed, 'kay?"

Veronica nodded, still in a kind of trance. 

"What's something you've never told anyone, not even your mother."

_That I have a huge crush on you._

"I slept with a stuffed animal until I was twelve. She was a dolphin named Anita, and she still lives in my closet."

Heather cackled, tipping her head back so that her ginger ringlets fell limply around it, forming a collapsed halo. 

"That's amazing. Can I meet her next time I'm at your house?"

"Uh, if you want?" Veronica said, not sure if Heather was kidding. 

Heather finally stopped laughing and pushed herself up off the bed, rummaging through the drawers in her bureau until she found two nighties, tossing one to Veronica and announcing that she would change in the bathroom. Veronica shuffled to her feet, quickly pulling hers on. The already very short gown barely covered her ass as she was a good inch or so taller than Heather, and she felt exposed when Heather strode back into the room and practically floated into bed, looking comfortable in her skin as always. God, Veronica wished some of that would rub off on her. 

From the bed, Heather looked at her expectantly. 

"You're shivering, idiot. Get under the covers." 

Veronica did as she was told, pulling Heather's down comforter tight around her shoulders. 

"Aw, you're cold," Heather teased, forcibly turning Veronica onto her side and draping an arm around her waist to pull her closer until she was pressed up against Veronica's back. "Let me warm you up loser."

Veronica blamed the affection on the alcohol coursing through her veins, both from the vodka and the party beforehand. Nevertheless, the sunk into the embrace, relaxing completely. When Heather's leg forced itself between her own later that night, Veronica realized two things: Heather Chandler was a cuddler, and Veronica Sawyer was totally and utterly fucked. 

 

***

 

The series of events that Friday afternoon at the 7/11 were disastrous, to say the least. When Veronica had told JD that Heather was coming, she hadn't expected him to be happy, but she also hadn't expected him to act like a whiny bitch. 

"She's a soulless bitch!" he complained. "Just like every other queen bee from every other school I've ever been to."

Internally, Veronica thought there couldn't possibly be another girl with control issues so bad that she made her friends color coordinate, who let college boys do whatever they wanted to maintain a good reputation without telling anyone how she was hurting, who had been emotionally neglected as a child by her parents, who could make Veronica's head spin every time they kissed. She couldn't exactly say that, though.

Instead, she said, "C'mon, JD. I know she can be kind of a bitch, but she's my friend, and I already told her she could come."

"Fine," he pouted. "But you're riding with me."

"Fine," Veronica agreed, happy he was done throwing his tantrum. She didn't realize she had a much bigger tantrum in store when she tried to walk past Heather's porsche and towards JD's bike.

"Veronica, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Heather asked

Veronica froze, turning around slowly to face the girl, who had her hands firmly on her hips.

"Uh, going over to my ride?"

"Last time I checked," Heather said, stepping closer in a way that made Veronica feel like a gazelle being stalked by a lion, "I was your ride."

"Oh, well, JD asked me to ride with him." Veronica bit her lip nervously, daring to take a tiny step back. 

"Decline his offer," she said, her voice going dangerously low."

"Heather-"

"I'm always your ride."

"Yeah, but-" 

"Get in the car, Veronica."

"Heather, really-"

"What, you like him more than me now? Is he suddenly not _just a friend_ _?_ "

Veronica sighed, allowing Heather to walk up to her until there was only a few inches of space between them. 

"Look, Heather, you're already crashing," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. "Let JD have this. We'll see you there, okay?"

For the first time in her life, Heather "I pick and choose my battles, I just happen to choose all of them" Chandler seemed to relent instead of pushing for her way, or even trying to compromise. 

"Fine. Go hop on the back of psycho trench coat kid's motorcycle. But wear a helmet." And with that, she turned on her heel and started back to her porsche. It was a goddamn miracle. 

The entire time they were out, Heather and JD took every chance they had to take cheap shots at each other. JD called Heather fake, plastic, cliche, a walking nightmare. Heather called JD a damaged white boy with a superiority complex and told him that his edgy lone wolf vibe was just a "pathetic cry for the attention his mommy and daddy deprived him of."

"My mom's dead, actually," JD fired back. "And my dad's a immature piece of shit. I'm basically the adult of the household. Ready to apologize?"

"For what? My baggage is just as heavy as yours. Dead mom, crappy dad who drinks his life away and is never home. I've been through shit you can't even imagine, but you don't see flashing a gun in the school cafeteria and using my sob story to pick up chicks in convenience stores. I deal with it like a normal person by projecting my insecurities onto other people and repeating the same toxic cycle of insults and indifference that I was taught as a child."

The whole sentence was really a lot to unpack, but one thing seemed to stick out to Veronica in the moment. 

"Wait, Heather, your mom died?"

"She got cancer when I was nine. Died before I was eleven."

"Heather, I'm so sorry," Veronica said, reaching out to grab the girl's hand before realizing that was a horrible idea. Heather's gaze dropped knowingly to Veronica's hand and she smiled. It wasn't razor sharp like it usually was, but soft, personal, maybe even a little sad. 

"My dad blew up my mom," JD said, like he was trying to one up Heather.

Heather laughed humorlessly. 

"God, you really are psychotic. Seriously, see a therapist or something."

Heather must have struck a nerve with the therapy comment because the next thing she knew, JD had dumped his entire slushie down the front of her blouse. Heather stood there, jaw clenched, arms tensed at her sides, hands shaking with rage, knees bent like she was ready to pounce. 

"I... will  _crucify_ you!" she screeched as Veronica frantically ran to get napkins. "Come Monday, you're a dead man walking."

JD, who still looked pretty pissed himself, pulled his gun from his trench coat. Heather scoffed. 

"That's loaded with blanks."

"Are you so sure?" JD asked, a dangerous glint in his eye. 

"JD, what the fuck!" Veronica exclaimed, looking back and forth between the both of them. 

"Veronica, she-"

"I don't care! You can't hold someone at gunpoint when they piss you off!" 

"Fucking drama queen," Heather muttered under her breath. 

"Shut up, Heather!" Veronica yelled incredulously. 

Heather looked at Veronica, ready to tell her that she was under no circumstances to talk to her like that, but the brunette next to her looked downright, her hands clenched so hard around the napkins she'd grabbed that her knuckles were turning white. Heather kept her mouth shut. 

"You need to go," Veronica said to JD, her voice audibly shaking. "Now."

"But, Veronica," JD tried. 

"No. Leave. Heather can take me home." 

JD huffed but left nonetheless. Heather took the napkins from Veronica and led the other girl out of the store and to the car, griping about JD's dramatics the whole way there. Veronica sat in the passenger seat, totally silent, trying to still her shaking hands, unaware that Heather had pulled the car over until she felt a hand on her arm. Concern was not an expression Heather Chandler wore often. To be perfectly frank, it looked almost unnatural on her. 

"Are you okay?" she asked. 

"Yeah," Veronica said. Then, she burst into tears. 

"Oh, God," Heather mumbled under her breath, seeming almost panicked. "Oh, shit. Jesus Christ. Stop doing that." 

Veronica let out a sob, her shoulders shaking as tears ran down her face. Heather awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. 

"Uh, there there. Can I, uh, do you... Do you need a hug?" The words seemed almost painful, but Veronica was so grateful for them.

She collapsed into Heather's arms, taking in the scent of her detergent. Heather's arms were awkward around her at first, but soon enough, she let them relax, even going so far as to rub small circles in between Veronica's shoulder blades. 

"Sorry," Veronica sniffled, her voice muffled by Heather's blazer. 

"You dealt with my breakdown last week. It's only fair." Veronica half expected Heather to push her away not that she had stopped crying, but she just continued speaking. "You were really scared, weren't you?"

"What if that gun had been loaded?" Veronica said in a small voice. "We didn't know. He could've shot you. You could've died."

"Yeah, well, I doubt Westerburg would've cared all that much," Heather joked. "I have a reputation for being a mythic bitch."

"I would've cared," Veronica said. 

"Oh," Heather said, like she hadn't thought about that. "Okay. I'll try not to die then." 

She said it with her signature nonchalance, but her hold on Veronica tightened just slightly. Veronica smirked into her as she realized why Heather smelled so familiar. 

"Do you use Snuggle?" 

Heather seemed utterly and totally confused.

"The fabric softener," Veronica clarified, sitting up to look at Heather, who's cheeks were tinged pink. "Do you put Snuggle fabric softener in when you do laundry?" 

Heather didn't answer, just said, "You have slushie in your hair." 

Veronica eyed the large stain on her shirt. 

"You're one to talk." 

Heather rolled her eyes and pulled back onto the road. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~AnGsT~ from Heather C's perspective

Heather wasn't supposed to like girls. She was supposed date the jocks, maybe even some of the wealthier country club kids, the kinds of boys that were on her social status. She was supposed to have sex, but not too much sex. She was not supposed to want girls. She was not supposed to want fucking Veronica.

But how could she not want Veronica?

Veronica fucking Sawyer with her fluffy hair and her goddamn smirk, with her sharp wit and the sheer amount of nerve she had, challenging Heather in ways no one else would dare. Veronica fucking Sawyer, who smelled like coffee and old books, who made stupid puns, who always had ink on her hands. Veronica fucking Sawyer, who bounced up and down when she got too excited, who had watched her break down and not told a soul, who fought tooth and nail to try to get to know Heather in a way no one else bothered. 

Heather wasn't supposed to like kissing Veronica, and if she was honest with herself, she probably shouldn't let the girl keep kissing her at parties, but their excuse was so full proof, the circumstances so convenient, she just couldn't help it. Heather wasn't supposed to want to kiss her when they were alone, to check out her ass in the ridiculously short skirts the Heathers had picked out for her, to give her soft smiles and make exceptions for her, like letting her keep her loser friends and even going so far as to cut "Martha Dumptruck" out of her vocabulary when the other Heathers weren't around. Heather wasn't supposed to  _dream_ about Veronica, especially not in the way she had last night. She flushed thinking about it and took a few extra minutes to compose herself before walking into the school. 

She was supposed to ruin JD today after the stunt he pulled on Friday, but she kept getting distracted and flustered by every little thing Veronica did. She watched Veronica tap her pencil against her desk during their math test. She watched Veronica write furiously during English, like she couldn't get the thoughts out fast enough. She watched Veronica get her food in the lunch line. The only time she wasn't watching Veronica was when she was actively thinking about not watching Veronica. That girl made her so fucking angry. And turned on. Dammit.

Due to the ridiculous staring the first half of the day, Heather did one of the things she was best at: overcompensated. She didn't talk to Veronica at all for the rest of the afternoon. The girl kept throwing wounded looks her way, and it honestly hurt not talking to her, but that's what was best, at least until Heather could make eye contact with her and not go bright red. Jesus Christ, she was Heather fucking Chandler. She wasn't supposed to get flustered. She was solid teflon, for fuck's sake. 

She ended up directing all of her energy to starting a nasty rumour that JD was into necrophilia, which wasn't some of her best work, but it was what she could come up with in her trainwreck of a brain. Heather Mac got necrophilia and necromancy confused, so a third of the school thought JD was some kind of witch, which wasn't as much fun as the original rumour, but if people asked Heather about it, she just claimed it was probably both. 

Her "avoid Veronica as much as possible" plan blew up in her face when said girl showed up on her doorstep that afternoon. She really should have seen that coming. 

"What, Veronica?" she said when she answered the door, trying to sound as annoyed as possible but ending up just sounding tired. 

"Uh, I came here to see if you were mad at me for something because you'd been ignoring me today. Are you okay? You seem exhausted." Veronica gestured to her slumped posture.

"I'm fine," Heather snapped, standing up straight. 

"Hey," Veronica said softly, stepping inside. "It's just me. You don't have to pretend." 

"I'm not pretending," Heather lied. 

Veronica gave her a pointed,  _bullshit_ look. It made Heather's blood boil.

"Fuck you, Veronica," she said. "Honestly, fuck you. You've been a Heather for what, three months? And you're breaking down my carefully constructed walls with your wreckingball of caring. You know more about me than anyone, more than Duke, more than Mac, more than my own dad. I mean, you were gonna find out about my mom eventually, but the David thing? My mom and I following my dad around on business trips to make sure he stayed faithful? You know what fucking fabric softener I use!" 

Veronica looked taken aback by the sudden outburst, and Heather cursed herself for letting her emotions get the better of her again. Why couldn't she just keep her mask on with her like she could with everyone else?

"Why do you even care?" Heather wondered aloud before Veronica could say anything. "Why do you care about me? Like, everyone cares what I do, but at the same time, they don't really. Not how you do. So why do you do it?"

"Someone has to," Veronica said. "I think it's the only thing keeping you from transitioning into a full-on super villain." 

Heather laughed to herself. That sounded about right. God, this girl was going to be the death of her.

"I was gonna watch some M*A*S*H reruns. Wanna join me?" she asked with more than a little trepidation.

"You watch M*A*S*H?" Veronica asked with a smirk. "Doesn't really seem like your kinda thing."

"Well, it is, and if you tell anyone, I'll kill you."

"Geez, Heather." Veronica put her hands up as if to say,  _don't shoot_. "Do you really think people are gonna care about what tv you watch?"

"I'm Heather fucking Chandler. Of course they will." 

Veronica just rolled her eyes playfully, collapsing onto the leather sofa and tucking her legs up under her. They watched for a few minutes in oddly comfortable silence.

"Did you mean it?" Heather asked.

"Mean what?" Veronica said, tearing her gaze away from the television. 

"I don't have to pretend with you?"

Veronica nodded, and Heather let out a short breath. 

"I used to watch this show with my mom," she admitted. "We'd always watch the new episodes together, even when she was in the hospital." 

Veronica smiled at her, one of those soft smiles that they weren't supposed to give each other. Heather felt an odd mixture of warmth and panic. She couldn't decide if her life was ruined or saved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is hecka short compared to the other chapters because i like writing from veronica's pov better, but i think it's really important to the plot. kinda gives you a little insight.


	5. Chapter 5

Veronica's crush was now about a thousand times worse. It was bad enough when Heather was just hot and powerful, but now she was human, too? Now that Veronica had all these little details floating around in her head that only she knew, it was hard not to fall in deeper. It was funny how things worked like that. She'd wanted Heather to be able to use her as a confidant, to be able to be flawed and let her guard down, but it had totally ruined her life. They had begun to hang out a lot, just the two of them, and it really didn't help that Veronica wanted to kiss Heather every time they were in a room alone together. 

The parties didn't help either. It got to the point that, as soon as Veronica stepped onto the Remington campus,  _Heather's straight, Heather's straight, Heather's straight_ would play in her head on a loop. It was this mantra that kept Veronica from dragging Heather into a dark room alone. It was also killing her to have no one to gush to. She wasn't exactly about to talk to her parents about her love life, and the only other person who knew she was bisexual would go into cardiac arrest if she found out Veronica liked Heather Chandler. That's why it was a godsend to stumble upon Heather Duke sucking face with some college girl in the bathroom one night. 

"Veronica!" Heather yelped in surprise. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to use the bathroom?" Veronica said. "Someone's in the one downstairs. I can go look for another one, though."

Before she knew it, Heather was pulling her into the room and shutting the door behind the blonde she'd been kissing. 

"You cannot tell anyone this," Heather said once they were alone, beginning to pace the room.

"Heather, chill," Veronica said. "I'm wouldn't, I promise. I'm bisexual."

It must've been the alcohol and sense of mutual understanding that made her say it so casually, especially considering this was only the fourth person she'd told. It must've been the right way to say it, though, because Heather looked instantly relieved. A small smile crept onto her face. Come to think of it, it was probably the first time Heather Duke had ever smiled at her.

"Same," she said, leaning up against the sink. "How long have you known?"

"Since middle school. My mom's bi, too, so when I came to her about liking girls, she helped me learn about myself."

"Damn, you're lucky," Heather said. "You're, like, literally the first person I've told."

"Besides that girl you were making out with?" Veronica teased. Heather smirked a little.

"Actually, we didn't really talk all that much."

"Are you worried she'll tell anyone?" Veronica asked, but Heather just laughed.

"Why would she bother? We're not exactly all that and a bag of chips here, just a couple of high school students lucky enough to score an invite. Well, except for you and Heather. A pretty serious amount of jocks, like, worship the ground you walk on or something." She paused, considering something. "Does Heather know?"

"No," Veronica said quickly. "Please don't tell her."

"Well that'd be kind of a dick move, especially after you promised not to out me." She grinned wickedly. "So? Do you like her?"

Veronica locked the door to the bathroom and sat down on the floor, motioning for Heather to do the same. 

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to talk to someone about this."

 

***

 

Heather Duke was much more tolerable ever since their conversation in the bathroom. Actually, she was more than tolerable. Now that she wasn't constantly trying to pull the rug out from under Veronica's feet, Veronica could appreciate how funny she could be. All of her little snarky comments that she usually saved for Mac, who she knew wouldn't tell her to shut up, were now whispered in Veronica's ear as well. More than once, Veronica had had to stifle a snicker before Chandler noticed. Despite the fact that she hadn't been properly yelled at since the David incident, Duke was still more than a little wary of the other girl. 

As she and Duke started to get closer, Veronica couldn't help but think that maybe Duke was right to be a little afraid of Chandler. She'd caught the redhead seething at Duke on numerous occasions recently, especially when she offered to take Veronica places or sent her into a fit of giggles with one of her sarcastic comments. Somehow, it evolved into a game of who could get Veronica's attention the most. Any free time Veronica had been blessed to have in the first place, considering Heather had been pretty demanding of her before, had now been sucked out the window. She spent Sunday afternoon playing croquet with Duke and Tuesday night over at Chandler's house. She sat between the two at lunch, blew off study hall to go shopping with Chandler, blew off history to get fries with Duke. Chandler had gotten so desperate that she had started to come to Veronica's house the night before they had a big test in biology, knowing that Veronica was studying and simply sitting next to her on her bed, reading quietly in a magazine before caving and asking Veronica to help her study simply to get the other girl's focus. 

This went on for about a week with absolutely no one acknowledging that it was happening. Then, one Friday afternoon, while ditching the last ten minutes of pre calc in favor of hanging out in the bathroom, Heather Chandler asked Veronica if she wanted to hang out with her that night.

"I already made plans with Duke," Veronica said apologetically, fully expecting a patented Heather Chandler meltdown. Heather just let out a dry, humourless chuckle.

"Heather Duke's always been my biggest rival. It only makes sense that we'd be fighting over a girl."

"Aw, shit, Heather. We're all friends," Veronica said. "Why can't you guys just back off a little, be more like Mac."

"This is different," Heather said. 

"How so?" Veronica asked haughtily. 

Heather didn't say anything, just stared at Veronica as if contemplating how she should proceed. And then she was kissing her. Heather Chandler was kissing her, hard, pushing her up against the bathroom wall with no one around to witness the spectacle. Heather was kissing her for no other reason than that she wanted to. It was all Veronica had wanted for weeks, and she was just about to tell her, as soon as she could break away from Heather long enough to get words out. 

But Heather ran.

Veronica had a lot to tell Heather Duke that night. 

 

***

 

"I fucking knew it," Duke said as soon as Veronica finished recounting what had happened in the bathroom. "I knew Heather had a thing for you!" 

"What?" Okay, Veronica was completely lost. "How? Does she talk about me?"

Duke gave her a look that Veronica couldn't decipher. 

"Well, yes and no. She doesn't openly gush about you or anything, but in her own weird Heather way, she does. She'll just say something about how she wishes you were there when we're hanging out, but it'll be followed up by an insult directed at me. Or, she'll do this thing where she'll compare other girls to you, talk about how you've come so far and are so much better or prettier than them or whatever. And she talks about your worth a lot when she's drunk? Like,  _Veronica's so important to me. To us, I mean. We should've inducted her sooner._ " 

Veronica felt like her face was about to split in half from the way she was grinning. Heather grinned back.

"God, Ronnie, she is so totally into you. Have you noticed how soft she gets around you? The way she'll back off the poor freshman she's terrorizing the second you look disappointed? It's fucking incredible." 

Veronica burst out laughing, remembering what Chandler had said before she had pinned her up against the wall.

"I think- I think Heather thinks- that you..." she trailed off, dissolving into laughter so ferocious that she couldn't speak. "Heather thinks you like me, too!"

Now Duke was laughing, too, so hard that there were tears streaming down her face. After finally collecting themselves, and cracking a few jokes about how Veronica was not Heather's type and vice versa, the decided that Veronica needed to go to Chandler's house ASAP to clear things up with her. Duke grabbed her keys, still chuckling to herself.

"I bet Heather's never had to deal with an unrequited crush in her life, especially considering her out of control jealousy this week."

Veronica snorted and punched Duke's shoulder lightly, following her out to her Jeep. A short car ride later, and Veronica was once again on Heather Chandler's doorstep, waiting. When Heather saw who it was, she pulled Veronica inside by her upper arm, slamming the door behind them. 

"Veronica." She looked goddamn terrified. "If you tell anyone about what happened in the bathroom-"

Veronica cut her off with a kiss, which Heather returned almost immediately, relief washing over her like a wave as her hand slid up Veronica's arm to grasp the back of her neck. 

"You like me," Veronica teased.

"Shut up, Ronnie," Heather said, kissing her hungrily. Veronica did, letting Heather breathe every ounce of feeling into her mouth, weeks of tension slipping away as they stood in Heather's foyer, wrapped up in one another. 

"God, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to do this," Veronica said, a little out of breath. She rested her forehead against Heathers as the other girl let a slow smile spread across her face. 

"I think it's the other way around." 

Veronica looked at her incredulously. 

"How long?"

"Since you took off that unfortunate scarf in the bathroom that day." Heather must've seen the impending cocky grin beginning to form on Veronica's lips because she followed it up with. "Shut the fuck up."

"But I didn't say anything," Veronica said innocently as Heather rolled her eyes.

"Yeah but you were about to." She tousled Veronica's hear. "Fucking nerd."

"Bitch," Veronica muttered under her breath.

Heather smirked. 

"You know it, babe."


	6. Chapter 6

When Veronica woke up that morning, she was reminded once again that Heather Chandler was a cuddler. Her and Veronica's legs were tangled beneath the sheets to the point that Veronica wasn't able to tell whose limbs belonged to who, her head was tucked under Veronica's chin, and she was holding Veronica's arm around her with one hand, the other resting on Veronica's stomach. She was breathing slowly, in and out, her hair a mussed mess. Veronica smiled down at her and grabbed her diary off of the nightstand. 

_Dear Diary,_

_A lot has happened in the past 24 hours. Heather kissed me. Yes, *Heather* Heather. But then she ran away, which sucked, but after talking to Duke, I_

The diary was taken out of her hands, closed, and tossed haphazardly on the floor. A sleepy Heather untangled their legs only to swing one of her own over Veronica's torso, crawling up onto her, hooking her hands around Veronica's neck, and relaxing against her chest with a heavy sigh, her face burrowed into the skin of Veronica's shoulder, exposed by the borrowed nightgown she was wearing. 

"Heather," Veronica whined. 

"Shhh." Heather pressed her lips just below Veronica's jaw, once, twice, three times before ducking her face back down. "Go back to sleep." 

"But I'm not tired."

"Rub my back then."

Veronica rolled her eyes, complying, and felt Heather hum with contentment. Despite the fact that she had felt well rested when she woke up, Heather was warm, and her pillow was soft, and she fell back asleep easily, only to be woken up by Heather's palm digging into her shoulder in her desperate scramble to get out of bed. 

"Get the fuck up!" she hissed, shoving Veronica into her closet as soon as possible. Someone jiggled the door knob and threw the door open. 

"Heatherrrrr," a man's voice slurred. "Come back me a hangover cure, will ya?"

"Are you just now getting home? It's past noon," Heather said. Veronica could tell she was trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. 

"Don't bitch to me like you do everyone else. I'm your father, and you'll do as I say, and I say I wanna find a hangover cure in the fridge and pills by the bed when I wake up from my nap." 

The door slammed. Veronica stood stock still in Heather's closet until the door was thrown open with almost as much aggression as it had been shut. Heather's jaw was taught, her hands clenched into fists at her side, and the most miserable, sour expression on her face. Veronica just stepped out of the closet, whispering, "I'm bisexual" under her breath, and wrapped her arms around Heather, pulling her in as tight as possible and looping her arms up to rub the tension out of Heather's shoulder blades. 

"I really need to stop breaking down around you," Heather said, her own arms tightening around Veronica's waist. It was clear she was trying not to cry. 

"Fuck it if I care," Veronica said. "You should've been friends with middle school me. She was a nightmare. Mental breakdowns on the daily."

Heather laughed, although it was a little watery, and allowed Veronica to pull them down on the bed. 

"So," Veronica started, absently playing with Heather's fingers, "are you gonna shove me in a closet every time someone comes over and we're together?"

"Only if it looks suspicious," Heather said. 

Veronica frowned and fixed her gaze on Heather's face.

"So we're not telling anyone about us, then?"

Heather frowned, too, and leaned in to kiss Veronica gently before saying, "I'm just not ready yet. Not for people at school to know."

"Would you consider telling my parents?" Veronica asked hopefully. "Maybe some time around Christmas?" 

"You're kidding," Heather deadpanned. "You want to tell your parents about us? You're ready to come out now?"

"Actually..." Veronica trailed off, taking Heathers hands. 

Heather's jaw dropped. She stared at Veronica with shock and awe and, was that jealousy?

"You're already out to them?" 

And so Veronica launched into the story about discovering that she liked girls, and that her mom was bisexual, and that she was bisexual, etc., etc. She explained all the family jokes, especially all the new ones once she became friends with the Heathers, who were without a doubt the most attractive girls in school. 

"I don't like boys, though," Heather said worriedly. "Will they still like me?"

Veronica couldn't help it. She laughed. Seeing Heather Chandler of all people nervous about getting someone else's approval, especially a parent's, was like getting snow in Florida. Heather scrunched up her nose in a pout. Veronica kissed her softly to stifle her laughter.

"Of course they'll still like you. Y'know, once you apologize for bullying Martha and stuff."

"Right," Heather said. "I guess I should be more worried about that."

Veronica noticed the frown set on her face as Heather's shoulders slumped. She guessed that Heather had never even considered her reign of terror coming back to bite her in the ass later. 

"If I can forgive you, I'm sure they can," Veronica said. She gave Heather another quick kiss. It was weirdly amazing to be able to comfort her like that. 

Heather smiled and got to her feet with reluctance. 

"I guess I better go make him that hangover cure. You should probably go. You don't want to be here when he wakes up."

"It doesn't sound like you do either," Veronica said, staying put. 

Heather shrugged and all but tugged Veronica to her feet.

"I'll be fine."

"Or you could come with me. Tell him you needed to study. My parents aren't home, so it'd just be us." Veronica played with Heather's hands and gave her a knowing smile, lacing their fingers together. "C'mon, I'll even help you make the hangover cure."

Heather let herself grin and dragged Veronica out of the room and towards the kitchen. 

"You'd need a ride home anyway, wouldn't you? What kind of a girlfriend would I be if I let you walk six blocks." 

Veronica's stomach flipped at the word girlfriend. She and Heather were girlfriends. She had no idea what was going to come of that, but at the moment, she couldn't be happier. 

 

***

 

When Heather and Veronica pulled up to Veronica's house, Veronica was only wearing her blazer over her bra. Her shirt had mysteriously vanished, but the quiet smile on Heather's face made her think that it hadn't been an accident. This would've been fine if Heathers Mac and Duke hadn't been playing croquet in her backyard when they walked in. 

"Hey Veronica!" Heather Mcnamara said cheerfully, looking up from her croquet mallet. Duke merely waved in greeting and smirked at Veronica's attire. 

"What's with the new look, Veronica?" she questioned. Veronica's cheeks heated up, but before she could say anything, Chandler jumped in to cover their asses.

"This dipshit spilled syrup all over herself this morning. Her shirt's in the laundry at my house."

"You stayed over at Heather's?" Mac asked curiously. Each of them had only been in the Chandlers' house a handful of times, and no one had ever slept over there.

"Yeah, her mom was being a bitch, so she crashed at mine," Heather said, fixing Mac with a look. "Is that a problem?"

Mcnamara shook her head furiously and went back to taking her croquet shot, bouncing it off a tree trunk in her haste. Duke snorted and moved to take her turn. Heather grabbed the red ball and mallet, Veronica took the blue, and things went about business as usual for the rest of the morning. Heather won, as usual. Mcnamara tripped over one of the rungs, as usual. Veronica went inside to get lemonade and brought Heather's glass to her. Heather thanked her with a kiss. Mcnamara audibly gasped. Things were suddenly not business as usual.

Chandler seemed to realize what she'd done, and, in a panic, spilled the lemonade down her shirt. Veronica chuckled, thinking,  _who's the dipshit now,_ but Heather's glare shut her up pretty quick. 

"Get me a clean shirt," she ordered, making a split second decision to ignore the fact that things were not business as usual and following Veronica back into the house.

Once they made it to Veronica's room, her facade dropped. She looked at Veronica, that same fear in her eyes from when Veronica had shown up at her house the day before, and Veronica realized that this was another instance where Heather had outed herself. 

"What the fuck have I done," she whispered to herself.

She took the shirt that Veronica held out to her but barely registered it. They stood in silence for a few minutes before Veronica realized that Heather did not plan on doing anything besides staring at nothing and worrying her bottom lip for a while. She sighed and slipped off her blazer, then began to unbutton her shirt, sliding it off of her shoulders. She took the shirt from Heather's hands and pulled it over her head.

Heather looked funny. On the one hand, she was dressed in a short skirt and tights, her hair falling in perfect curls as usual, her makeup the picture of perfection. On the other, she was wearing a black Queen t shirt, and there was a distressed look in her eye. Her look was a contrast between having it all together and drowning. Veronica just had to give her a hug. 

There was a small part of her that was still expecting to be pushed back, but Heather clung to her like a life raft, taking a shaking breath. 

"They know, Veronica," she said, panicked. "They know. What do we do?"

It took everything in Veronica to not tell Heather that Duke was bisexual, but she knew it was never her place to out someone. Instead, she tried her best to reassure Heather that it would be okay.

"Hey, it'll be alright. If we tell them the truth, they might be so shocked at seeing any kind of vulnerability from you that they don't spill."

"No offense, Veronica, but this could ruin me," Heather said. "If I didn't like you so fucking much, I wouldn't even think about doing whatever it is that we're doing. Everyone at school is constantly on the lookout for a way to take me down, including Heather Dick. How can I trust them?"

"They might surprise you," Veronica said, resisting the urge to run a hand through Heather's hair and make her look even more unkempt. "United front, okay? We're together, we're fine with it, if they're not, they can grow the fuck up."

"They can grow the fuck up." Heather smiled. "I like that." 

Together, they headed back down the stairs, their hands clasped together and Heather's posture just as regal as usual. Veronica squeezed her hand one more time before the stepped out the back door.

"United front."

Heather nodded and walked out, seemingly in complete control. The only tell was the way her nails dug into the back of Veronica's hand. 

"Listen up, bitches," Heather started. "Veronica and I have something to tell you."

Heathers Duke and Mac looked over at them, clearly eager to see what Chandler had to say. Chandler took a deep breath.

"Veronica and I are together. We're happy. Other people won't be. If one of those people, you can grow the fuck up."

"Of course we support you!" Mac was quick to say. She smiled, all sunshine and rainbows. "Whatever makes you happy, Heather." 

Duke just stood there, staring at Chandler, her face completely stoic. Chandler stared back until Duke finally couldn't hold it together and bust out laughing, finally looking at Veronica who started to laugh, too. 

"Oh my God, Heather, chill," Duke said. "I'm bisexual. I'm not about to judge you."

Chandler turned to Veronica, having guessed that she already knew.

"You little shit."

Veronica only laughed harder, stumbling away from Chandler, who had tried to smack her several times. 

"It's not my place to out anyone, Heather."

Duke gave her a high five. Heather sneered at them.

"Alright, idiots, are we going to play croquet or what?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short chapter, but a lot happens

Heather and Veronica were not out at school. How could they be when more than half of the school were homophobic pieces of shit? It was driving Veronica mad not to able to hold Heather's hand in the hallway or kiss her on the cheek after the Heathers dropped her off at class or wrap her arms protectively around her from behind when a couple of jocks dared to harass her, even though she knew Heather would shut them down better than she ever could. The only thing keeping Veronica sane was the fact that the other Heathers knew, so she could do all of that as long as it was just the four of them, which it generally was since they were a pretty exclusive group.

She was pleasantly surprised when Heather started a rumour that she was dating a college guy. Some people, like Country Club Courtney, were highly skeptical of this and felt entitled to proof that it was real, but the Heathers took care of that pretty quickly. It only took a reminder that Heather Duke would break David's kneecaps if Chandler so much as snapped her fingers to get the cowardly dickhead to play along and claim it was one of his buddies, a wrestler no less. Within three days, high school boys were far too afraid of Heather's made up beau to even look at her. 

Veronica had never taken kindly to being catcalled or objectified because, unlike Heather, she wasn't very good at holding herself back. Sure, she'd dated a few guys here and there, but not enough that it was a red flag if she was noticeably single but not really mingling. 

Everything should've been fine. In fact, everything was fine. Except for one trenchcoat wearing, motorcycle riding, broken white boy, who was once again fucking everything up in his pursuit of Veronica. It was obvious he liked her, and while Veronica might have liked him a little when he first showed up at Westerburg, any feelings for him had been crushed first by her enormous gay, Heather Chandler-induced panic, then by him holding Heather at gunpoint in the 7/11. 

"Hey, Veronica!" He yelled one afternoon, moving to follow her into the parking lot. "Wait up!"

She walked as fast as she could, but his legs were significantly longer, and he was far more desperate to catch up with her than she was to get away from him, so he eventually ended up beside her, matching her pace. 

"I just wanted to make sure we were cool-"

"Can't you take a fucking hint, JD?" she interrupted, turning to face him. "We're not cool! You threatened my best friend with a gun!"

"It was just blanks," JD muttered, looking taken aback. 

"I don't care! We didn't know that. And that's what you wanted, isn't it? For Heather to be afraid of you? If it had just been the slushie... I mean, she's done worse than that, but a gun? A real goddamn weapon? Did you have it at school with you?" A sudden realization swept over Veronica. She felt sick to her stomach. "Heather wasn't kidding when she said those things about you flashing a gun in the cafeteria."

JD hung his head. Whether it was out of shame for his actions or because Veronica was yelling at it him, it wasn't clear.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said. "I just- You're so much better than them, Veronica! I want you to see that. I want you to blow off the lipgloss gestapo and come get a slushie with me."

"Y'know what I want, JD?" Veronica practically spat. "Cool guys like you out of my life."

She turned on her heel and stalked off to Heather's porsche. This time, JD didn't try to follow her. Heather gave her a look that was half concern half disgust when she got there. 

"What did Jesse James want?"

"For me to ditch you guys in favor of spending my Friday night in a convenience store with him."

"Well, what'd you tell him?" Heather asked. She cocked her hip, hiding her insecurity behind casual callous as usual. 

"To go fuck himself, more or less," Veronica shrugged, grinning a little when she noticed Heather brighten at the news.

They got in the car, Veronica taking Heather's hand as soon as possible. Heather hid her small smile and rolled her eyes.

"This is a stick, Ronnie. I need both hands." 

Veronica huffed and slid her hand to Heather's bare knee, glad Heather wasn't wearing tights today. Heather looked over at her, the affection she only seemed to have for Veronica clear in her eyes. It was moments like this that made Veronica feel secure, knowing she wasn't the only one in way too deep. 

 

***

 

Veronica went home from Kurt's Hanukkah party (he was half jewish on his dad's side and used it as an excuse to throw a huge party every year, complete with vulgar dares written on the sides of the dreidels) with Heather, more than a little tipsy. Heather kept the top down on the ride home, the cool air effectively sobering Veronica up from the alcohol, but she was still drunk off of Heather when they stumbled up the stairs to her room. 

Whatever remaining energy Veronica still had at four in the morning was used up in an intense makeout session, and she collapsed in bed not long after they got home, still half dressed. The first thing she noticed when she woke up was that Heather had tucked her in. Huh. That was nice. The second thing she noticed was who had woken her up: Jason fucking Dean, standing next to the window, a broken lock in one hand, a kitchen knife in the other. 

"Veronica?" he said, confused.

Veronica screamed loud enough to wake Heather up and sat bolt upright, dragging Heather, who had been cuddled up next to her, with her. It was then Veronica realized they were both topless in Heather's bed. She flushed and pulled the sheet up to cover the both of them. This did not look good for anyone involved. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she yelled, not bothering to keep her voice down since Heather's dad was out of town, whether on a business trip or simply because he wanted to get wasted without the guilt that came with seeing his teenage daughter the next morning. "And why do you have a knife?"

She jumped out of bed, grabbing a nearby blouse from the floor, Heather's, and putting her body between her girlfriend and the knife wielding lunatic who had broken into Heather's house in the middle of the night. JD ignored both of her questions. 

"This was not supposed to happen," he said instead. "You were not supposed to be with her."

"Oh yeah? Why not?" 

"Because you were supposed to be with me!" He grit his teeth his hand tightening around the night. "We could be unstoppable together, Veronica. We could be God!"

Veronica just stared at him, flabbergasted. And then she was yelling again.

"Take a hint, you fucking psycho! I don't want you anywhere near me after that stunt you pulled in the 7/11 where you held my girlfriend up at gunpoint, and for what? Because she said you needed therapy? Newsflash, JD, mentally stable people don't commit felonies at," she cast a quick glance at the clock, "5:37 in the fucking morning!"

"But I love you." JD gave her a wounded look. "I worship you."

"Yeah, well, the feeling's not mutual, pal," Veronica spat.

JD went on a complex face journey, one that consisted of pain, heartbreak, disappointment, sadness, mourning, and finally rage. He lunged at Veronica, the bloodlust clear in his eyes, but before he could make it, he was hit in the face with the yellow pages. He staggered backwards, dropping the knife, which Veronica grabbed before he could collect himself. With a sneer, he jumped out the window and onto the large oak tree in Heather's front yard, scurrying down like a creepy, murderous squirrel. Veronica barely registered Heather speaking to a 911 operative in the background. She dropped the knife on the carpet and stood, staring out into the night. 

Within minutes, a pair of officers were standing in Heather's room. Heather was significantly more dressed when they arrived, and she had simply said that she and Veronica had crashed after they got back from the party, too tired to change. It was half true. Then, the cops had taken their statements, bagged the knife for evidence, and left. Veronica felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist.

"Come back to bed," Heather murmured. "Those guys are gonna camp outside my house. They'll get him if he has the balls to come back, even though I doubt he does. Just come back to bed, and we'll deal with this in the morning."

Veronica nodded and allowed herself to be pulled back into bed and tucked in, pulling Heather in close to her side. Heather fell back asleep with ease, but Veronica stayed awake with her thoughts, holding Heather as tight as she could, the image of JD and his kitchen knife bathed in moonlight burned into her brain. 


	8. Chapter 8

She must've drifted off to sleep at some point because Veronica was awoken by Heather in her very short robe, holding a breakfast tray. Her hair was damp around her shoulders, so she must've taken a shower. She slid back into bed and rested the tray on their legs, giving Veronica a short kiss good morning. Veronica eyed the tray hungrily. On it were two empty plates, a stack of waffles in between them, and a couple of little bowls containing whipped cream and berries as well as two mugs of coffee.

"Mac and made waffles," Heather said, taking a sip of her coffee. 

"What time did she get here?" Veronica asked idly. She slid a couple of waffles onto her plate and began to cover them in whipped cream. Heather took the spoon from her before the sugary mountain could get too high. 

"She and Duke got here a couple of hours ago. I got up at about nine and called them."

"What time is it now?" Veronica asked through a mouthful of waffle. 

"Eleven-ish. The cops left at ten." 

Veronica cast a worried look at the window. Heather followed her gaze and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. 

"It's going to be okay, Ronnie. Duke's kept lookout the entire time she's been here, and we're going to yours after this, and then we're going to the hardware store to get new locks, and we're going to make Ram help us install them." 

Veronica tried her best to put on a brave face, complete with a wary half smile.

"You're gonna let Ram Sweeney into your house?" 

Heather rolled her eyes and lay her head on Veronica's shoulder. 

"Don't remind me. Thank fuck you're going to be here, too." 

Veronica nodded solemnly and stuffed her face. The food Heather Mac had made was delicious. She'd make sure to pester her about cooking more often. 

"God, you look like a chipmunk," Heather snorted. 

Veronica tried to frown, but there was too much food in her mouth. Heather started laughing hysterically. 

"Now you look like an angry chipmunk! That's adorable." 

Veronica swallowed and grinned. 

"You just called me adorable!"

Heather leaned into her shoulder, rolling her eyes again.

"I'm dating you, you fucking pillowcase."

Veronica stuck her tongue out at her and climbed out of bed, laughing when Heather fell over without her support, almost taking the tray with her. Luckily, they'd both pretty much inhaled their coffee so there was nothing to left to spill in their mugs, which shook with the force of being shoved six inches to the right. 

"I'm going to get a shower," Veronica announced. 

"Can I join you?" Heather asked. 

Veronica's eyebrows drew together.

"But you've already had a shower?" 

Heather just gave her an incredulous look before flopping back into bed and pulling the breakfast tray over. It wasn't until Veronica was in Heather's bathroom, about to hop in the shower, that she realized the implications of showering with Heather and went bright red.  _Maybe I am a pillowcase_.

 

***

 

Ram had insisted on meeting them at the hardware store. Something about girls getting lost in there? Ever since they'd gotten there, he'd been acting like a tour guide and giving them useless advice since Heather already had the locks picked out. 

"I just needed something harder-"

"That's what she said!" Ram cut Heather off, obnoxiously laughing at his own joke. Heather looked like she was about to melt his head with her glare. 

"...to open. I don't want any more unwelcome visitors trying to murder me in the middle of the night." 

"Wait did Bo Diddley really try to kill you?" Ram asked with a kind of morbid fascination. 

"Yeah, he had a knife and everything. Probably would've killed me, too, but Ronnie being there threw him for a loop." Heather gave Veronica a little smile. 

"I dunno, you clocking him in the face with the Yellow Pages really caught him off guard, too," Veronica said, pride evident in her voice.

Heather grinned wider and lightly smacked Veronica's ass. Veronica started, trying to seem inconspicuous as she looked over at Ram to make sure he hadn't noticed. 

"Aw, that is so badass!" he said, completely oblivious. From his tone, it was sure that half the school was going to know not to mess with Heather Chandler or she'd throw a phonebook at you. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Veronica cursed ram for being such an oblivious bastard. Heather seemed to take his complete ignorance about what happened in the hardware store as a green light to tease Veronica constantly, despite the fact that he was in the room. She trailed her hand up and down Veronica's thigh under the table while they watched Ram set up the locks in the kitchen, "fell" into her lap in her bedroom, and literally bent over in Veronica's face to pick up a screwdriver for Ram in the living room, which Ram seemed to mistake for her flirting with him. 

"Trying to help me out, eh, Heather?" he said, winking cockily. 

As soon as his back was turned, Heather made a face, and Veronica had to stifle a laugh. Ram even had the audacity to invite himself to stay for supper, but Heather quickly shot that down. 

"Veronica and I have to run to the store to get tampons."

And just like that, he was gone. Heather held the door open for him, waving goodbye before practically slamming it into his back. She turned to Veronica.

"So, Chinese food?" 

 

***

 

Veronica was sitting on the sofa, flicking through the channels on Heather's TV when she heard Heather scream. She rushed into the kitchen, expecting JD to be standing in front of the sliding glass door, or worse, in the kitchen, but he wasn't there. She felt temporary relief until a blur of red slammed into her, jumping up and wrapping itself around her like a koala. 

"That was my fucking knife, Veronica!" Heather all but screamed at her. 

Had it been any other situation, Veronica would've winced at the volume, but something about Heather's urgency and recent events had her too panicked to worry about that. 

"What? Heather, calm down and explain it to me."

Heather slowly allowed herself to slide off of Veronica but kept her hands wrapped around Veronica's upper arms. Fear was unnatural for Heather Chandler, which makes sense considering she usually had everything under control. The panic in her eyes made Veronica want to annihilate whatever had her so afraid. 

"JD broke into my room with a knife. It's missing from the knife block."

Veronica felt dread building in the pit of her stomach. 

"We just watched Ram change all of the window locks today. None of them were broken. We've been going in and out of your house. None of the locks on the doors have been broken. That means-"

"JD has a key to my house," Heather said, her voice shaking. "He only came through the window because he's a dramatic little bitch." 

Veronica pulled Heather into her, gripping at her with feroicity. If she hadn't been there, if JD had picked another time, if he had come through the door instead of the window, if Heather had been alone in her big house with no one to protect her... 

"Can I stay at yours tonight?" Heather asked. 

"You're staying at mine until JD is caught," Veronica said, still holding the other girl to her chest. "Unless your dad has a problem with it."

"He probably won't even notice." Heather sighed. "One time in middle school, I went to Duke's grandma's for a week, and when I came back, he told me I'd done a good job picking up after myself that week." 

 Veronica frowned, brushing a couple of stray curls away from Heather's face. She leaned in to kiss her softly. Softly turned to deeply turned to desperately, and soon they were completely wrapped up in one another. They startled apart at the sound of the doorbell. The Chinese food. They ate on the couch, watching bad television and telling stupid childhood stories. Heather had given up on trying to hide herself from Veronica like she did with everyone else and happily recounted the time she'd eaten three boxes of nerds and thrown up in her mom's car on the way home from the movies. 

That night, with Heather wrapped in her arms, secure in a house with parents downstairs who cared, with locks that hadn't been snapped off, Veronica felt completely content. She breathed in the scent of Snuggle and fell asleep to the sound of Heather's soft breathing. 


	9. Chapter 9

Constantly looking over your shoulder for a madman with a kitchen knife who's out to get you kind of puts a damper on the last week before winter break. Veronica was both physically and emotionally exhausted from her permanent state of worry. It was due to this exhaustion that she allowed herself to be dragged out of the cafeteria and into Heather's porsche with no restraint whatsoever at 12:03 on a Friday. 

"We're ditching," Heather said, opening Veronica's door and practically pushing her into the seat. "We're gonna go find a field somewhere, and we're just gonna sit there until you chill the fuck out." 

"We can't just sit in a field," Veronica said, buckling her seatbelt nonetheless. "JD is looking for us. A field is a perfect target." 

Heather frowned. 

"Fine. We're going to mine. Dad's on a business trip, so we'll have the place to ourselves, and I had all the locks changed, so there's no way JD can get to us inside." 

As soon as they pulled out of the parking lot, Heather shifted her hand to Veronica's knee, giving her girlfriend a concerned look out of the corner of her eye. It was no secret to any of the Heathers that Veronica could get easily worked up. Pretty soon after she'd been inducted into the group, Mac had found her curled up in the bathroom, crying and shaking after a rough morning that had included dropping her english essay in a puddle outside of school, spilling coffee down her white shirt, and failing a pop quiz in chemistry. She had a second panic attack a week later at the mall when she knocked over a display rack and the manager yelled at her for twenty minutes, even cussing her out in French at one point. It was unfortunate that Veronica was taking French. Veronica knew that was why Heather seemed worried. Veronica also knew she was probably annoyed that she cared. The thought of Heather caring about her and being characteristically annoyed with herself made Veronica smile. Heather took it as reassurance and allowed herself to smile back, just slightly.

Soft Heather Chandler was going to be the death of her. 

They got to Heather's house soon enough, a paranoid Veronica dragging Heather through the door at lightning speed once it was open and locking both the deadbolt and the chain as soon as they were safely inside. Heather grabbed Veronica's face and kissed her deeply. Veronica melted, and Heather smirked, breaking the kiss but keeping her hold on either side of Veronica's jaw. 

"Relax, 'Ronica. It's just us in here, yeah?" 

Veronica took a heavy breath and nodded. She collapsed onto the nearby couch, grabbing Heather by her waist and pulling her down onto her lap. 

"Sorry. It's just been a long week." 

Heather rubbed at the arm wrapped around her abdomen and leaned back into Veronica.

"I know, beautiful," Heather said tiredly. "Believe me, I know."

Veronica tightened her grip around Heather. 

"Did you just call me beautiful?" she said, smirking. 

Heather stiffened and tugged a little at Veronica's hold, clearly looking for a way out. She huffed and relaxed back into Veronica. 

"It's no secret you're one of the hottest girls in school, especially since our help."

Veronica's smirk grew. She leaned in so her lips would graze the side of Heather's neck when she spoke.

"Yeah, but you didn't say hot. You said beautiful." 

Heather stared straight ahead, pretending to ignore Veronica, but the slight tilt of her head towards Veronica betrayed her. 

"Never would've taken you for a sap," Veronica continued. "The demon queen of Westerburg High, calling her girlfriend beautiful in the most mundane of moments. Then again, I never would've taken you for a lot of things. Y'know, like a cuddler, a badass who clocks people in the face with phone books, someone with human emotions. Always keeping me on my toes." 

She lightly pecked Heather's cheek, grinning against her skin. Heather twisted on Veronica's lap, swinging her legs out over the armrest so she could turn to kiss Veronica, but Veronica backed out of her reach. 

"Admit it. You, Heather Chandler, think I, Veronica Sawyer, am beautiful. No take backs."

Heather rolled her eyes in frustration. 

"Stop acting like a five year old."

Veronica did her best to match the glare on Heather's face before erupting into giggles. 

"You're the one who won't admit what you said." 

Heather leaned in to kiss her again, another attempt to shut her up, but once again, Veronica dodged her, turning her face to the side so that Heather's lips hit her earlobe instead. Heather pursed her lips into an even deeper frown and raised an eyebrow. Veronica raised both of hers in response and stuck out her tongue. 

"Fine. I, Heather Chandler,  _know_ you, Veronica Sawyer, are so goddamn beautiful. And not in that stupid, sarcastic way you think Country Club Courtney is beautiful. In the very real way that makes me get stuck staring at you at school, and I hate you for it. Now will you just shut the fuck up and kiss me?" 

"All you had to do was ask," Veronica said with a shit eating grin, finally leaning in.

Heather pressed her back into the couch, kissing her fiercely. She untucked Veronica's shirt from her skirt and slipped her hands underneath it, trailing her fingers up and down Veronica's side. Veronica bit back a moan, tugging at Heather's hair with one hand, the other slowly making it's way up Heather's thigh. 

"Stay with me for Christmas," she said in between kisses. "You shouldn't have to spend it alone. Stay with me." 

"Mmm," Heather mumbled against her lips. "I haven't had a proper Christmas in years. My dad's always either 'out of town', or drunk off his ass, or both." 

"Then it's settled." Veronica moved her lips to Heather's jaw. "Christmas at my place."

"Will your parents mind?" Heather said shakily as her girlfriend nipped at the place where her jaw met her neck, her favorite spot. 

"Not at all." Veronica bit down on Heather's skin and sucked, groaning at the feel of Heather's nails digging into her ribcage. "We're not even religious. We actually celebrate Hanukkah and Christmas, just because we think they're fun." 

"Less talking," Heather mumbled, tilting her head back up to kiss her again. Veronica did so gladly.

 

***

 

Somehow, the excitement of Christmas had sucked all of the JD-induced negativity out of the air. Veronica was sitting on her bed across from Heather, a mug of hot chocolate loaded with whipped cream clasped between her hands. 

"It's Christmas Eve!" she said, bouncing a little but being careful not to spill her drink. 

"I know. You've told me about six times already," Heather quipped. "And, as endearing as it is to see you this bubbly, if you do it again, I'll throw Anita out a window." 

Veronica gasped and held the stuffed dolphin protectively against her stomach with her elbows. She'd dug it out of her closet earlier that day, to prove to Heather that she still had it, and the look of surprise on her mom's face when she'd victoriously marched into the kitchen with the dolphin raised above her head, singing "We Are The Champions" at the top of her lungs, had been priceless. 

She took a careful sip of her hot chocolate, her eyes on Heather over the top of her mug, daring her to try and take the stuffed animal from her. Heather snorted when Veronica took the mug away from her lips. 

"You have whipped cream on your nose, dork." 

Veronica swiped at her nose, effectively smearing the whipped cream all over her face. She frowned down at the streak of white on her palm and tried to lick the mess she'd made off of her hand. Heather laughed, full and free. 

"God, you're an idiot. Let me get it."

She carefully traced her thumb over Veronica's face and brought it to her lips, cleaning it off with more grace than Veronica thought was possible. She took Veronica's mug from her and took a sip of her drink, careful not to get anything on her face, and handed it back with a smirk. 

"Show off," Veronica muttered under her breath. 

They spent the rest of the night watching holiday movies on the VCR Veronica's mom had so graciously let them move from the den to her room, and they fell asleep that night wrapped up in each other, Anita squished between them. 

The next morning, Veronica woke to the smell of waffles and Heather's steady breath hitting her collarbone. Careful not to wake her, she slipped out of bed, grinning when she saw that Heather had gotten up at some point in the night to put on the reindeer printed pajamas that matched the rest of Veronica's family, the very same pajamas she'd scoffed at when Veronica had given them to her the night before. 

She tiptoed out of the room and into the kitchen, gratefully accepting the mug of coffee her mom handed her. They chatted in the kitchen for a few minutes, her mom manning the waffle maker and slowly adding to the stack, before Heather slinked out of Veronica's bedroom and down the stairs, wrapping her arms around Veronica's waist and sagging tiredly against her. Veronica stiffened in Heather's arms and looked at her mother like a deer in headlights. Heather seemed to notice something was wrong and detached herself from Veronica, taking the mug from Veronica's hands and taking a sip of her coffee before catching sight of Mrs. Sawyer. Her eyes bugged out of her head for a second, and she swallowed hard, grimacing. 

"Morning, Mrs. Sawyer," she said weakly. 

Veronica's mom sighed and shook her head.

"Shit, Veronica. I owe your father twenty bucks." 

Veronica laughed nervously. 

"What the fuck."

"Language," her mother said, setting the plate of waffles on the kitchen table. "Set the table, please. Heather, dear, do you mind grabbing the plates from the cabinet on the left while Veronica gets the silverware? Oh, and kiss her good morning if you'd like, I really don't mind." 

Heather very hesitantly gave Veronica  peck on the lips before moving to get the plates. Veronica looked back and forth between Heather and her mother before shrugging and rummaging through the silverware drawer for knives and forks. Veronica's dad came downstairs for breakfast a few minutes later, taking a seat across from Heather and loading his plate with sausage and waffles with powdered sugar, Christmas tradition. Veronica fixed Heather's plate before her own. Her father looked up in interest, studying the two. 

"Say, Heather," he said, ignoring his wife's chastising about talking with his mouth full. "What's that on your neck?" 

Veronica stopped eating, her fork still in the air, flakes of powdered sugar falling to the table. She glanced nervously at the hickey on the side of Heather's neck. Her dad's eyes lit up. 

"Ha! Pen, where's my money?" 

Heather realized what he was talking about and quickly fixed her hair to cover the mark, her face almost as red as her hair. Veronica's mom grumbled and got up to find her purse. Veronica shrunk back in her chair. This couldn't be happening right now. 

"So, Veronica, how'd you trick her into dating you?" her dad teased, living for his teenage daughter's embarrassment. "She's way out of your league." 

He took a sip of his drink, and Heather took it as an opportunity. 

"I happen to find Veronica very sexy," she said, smirking at the way Mr. Sawyer choked on his coffee. 

"Well played," he said under his breath, going back to stuffing his face. 

Veronica couldn't decide whether to jump out the window in embarrassment or jump Heather's bones because of the way her voice dropped when she'd said "very sexy." Though both options were appealing, she was in no position to do either, so she settled for resting her hand on Heather's thigh under the table. Heather smiled at her around a mouthful of waffle. Veronica smiled back. Maybe the teasing wasn't so bad. 

After breakfast, they moved to the living room to open presents. Veronica busied herself with sorting them out into piles while her parents and Heather chatted about school and what colleges Heather was looking at. 

"What's this?" Heather asked when Veronica layed a present at her feet. 

"It's for you," Veronica said. "Y'know, people get each other gifts on Christmas." 

"Yeah, but I already have mine from you." Heather gestured to the box in her lap. 

"That one's from my mom," Veronica said. "Read the tag."

Heather looked up at Mrs. Sawyer, her hands gripping the gift bag. 

"You really didn't have to-"

"Nonsense," Mrs. Sawyer cut her off. "It's Christmas. Everyone gets presents on Christmas." 

Veronica brought over another package. Heather accepted it, holding onto the gifts so tightly that her knuckles were white. It honestly looked like she was about to- Wait. Was Heather actually tearing up? 

Veronica dropped the present she was bringing over to her dad and rushed over, taking a seat next to Heather on the couch and wrapping an arm around her waist, her free hand prying Heather's fingers off of the package in her left hand so she could hold her hand. 

"Baby, what's wrong?" Veronica asked. "Hey, look at me. If this is too much, I'm sure my mom could take the gifts back or something, don't worry about it." 

Heather was full on crying now, tears streaming down her face. Veronica pulled her onto her lap, forgetting her parents were in the room in her distress. Heather buried her face in Veronica's chest, trying to calm down, while Veronica rubbed little circles into her back. After Heather pulled herself together, she seemed to remember where she was and turned around, cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer," she said. "I didn't mean to- I never- I don't know what got into me. It's just... it's really nice of you. To think of me. And to let me celebrate with you. You've made me feel really included, and it means a lot." 

Mrs. Sawyer beamed at her, like she'd never considered how much Heather appreciated her effort. 

"We're glad to have you, Heather," she said. "You seem like you make Veronica really happy." 

Heather opened her presents on Veronica's lap, and if either of her parents minded, they didn't say anything. Veronica got some clothes and books, including the traditional Sawyer cable knit christmas sweater, this one deep blue and covered in fluffy cotton polar bears and a brand new hardback copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. It was Veronica's favorite, so she'd been devastated when their cat had ruined her copy. Heather called her a dork when she told the story, but the peck she gave her after let her know it was out of endearment. She'd opened her present from Heather to find a silver eagle pendant, deep blue thigh high socks, and a white swatch ("You really can't accessorize for sh- crap") 

Heather also got a Sawyer sweater from Veronica's dad, hers black and soft and decorated with little penguins ("I knew they were together, so I figured it made sense to get her one"). Veronica's mom gave her a pair of fuzzy gray socks ("I know you won't wear them to school or anything, dear, but they're nice to have when it's cold") and a jar of homemade fudge. Heather loved all of it. She opened Veronica's present last, gasping when she did, which made Veronica flush with pride. She picked up the thin gold bracelet and read the inscription, smiling softly to herself. 

 _You're beautiful. -V_  

"I figured you can say a guy named Victor gave it to you or something, if anybody asks," Veronica joked. 

Heather looked up at her, eyes full of adoration. 

"Veronica, I love... it," she said, that soft smile Veronica always seemed to bring out of her still on her face. "But I... How much did this cost you?"

"Don't worry about it," Veronica said sincerely, pulling Heather into her chest. "Really. Don't. It was nothing I couldn't handle, and you're definitely worth it." 

Heather bit her lip and turned to Mr. Sawyer. 

"Sir, is it cool if I make out with your daughter? Like, right now?" 

He looked back and forth between the both of them before pushing himself out of his recliner. 

"I think that's our cue, Pen," he said, walking out of the living room, Mrs. Sawyer on her heels. 

"You have balls of steel," Veronica laughed.

Heather smirked and responded by kissing Veronica like her life depended on it. 


	10. Chapter 10

Heather had been staying with the Sawyers since Christmas, which made Veronica's house the designated hangout spot instead of Mac's, which was closer to the Chandler residence. Heather may have been treating her friends with more respect, maybe even a little kinder, but some things never changed, and everything revolving around her was one of those things.

It was the day before Heather McNamara's New Year's party, and the four girls were playing a round of croquet in Veronica's backyard. Usually, they left the party-throwing to Kurt and Ram, or the country club kids, or the college kids at Remington, but on New Year's it was their turn to host, and it was always epic. The tradition had started in eighth, when Mac's parents had gone on some kind of holiday cruise and left her at the Chandlers'. The girls had taken advantage of the empty mansion and thrown a massive party, complete with wine coolers, which were a big deal back in middle school. That was the party where Ram got wine drunk and jumped into the pool in a pair of Mac's underwear (she let him keep them). Ever since then, New Year's was left entirely for the Heathers. Veronica had been lucky enough to score an invite last year by going with one of the football benchwarmers, but this was the first year she'd actually be involved in the planning. 

That's what they were supposed to be doing right now, finalizing the details for the party, but instead, they were talking about Veronica's parents finding out about Veronica and Heather's relationship. 

"And they still let you sleep in the same room?" Mac asked. 

"Well, my dad started with an open door policy at first, but I promised him we weren't doing anything really serious and reminded him and Mom that I turned eighteen in November, so I'm technically an adult anyway, and he just said to keep it unlocked to get me to stop talking."

"Can you believe she didn't tell us it was her birthday?" Chandler interjected. "You little shit." 

"It was literally four days after we'd gotten together. It didn't seem all that important, and I knew you'd just use it as an excuse to buy me a bunch of shit I didn't need because you like to spoil me." 

"Damn right, I do," Chandler said, giving Veronica a quick peck before coming back in for a longer, more drawn out kiss. 

"God, you two are so adorable, it makes me want to barf," Duke said. 

"We all know you do plenty of that already," Chandler fired back. 

Veronica frowned. 

"Hey, that's not nice," she chastised. "Eating disorders are not fair game for picking on Heather." 

Chandler glared at her but kept her mouth shut, opting to drag Veronica down onto the bench in the backyard and rest her head on her shoulder. 

"I still think you should see a doctor," Mac said. 

Duke sighed and ran a nervous hand through her hair. 

"I dunno. That just seems... intimidating," she said. "Wouldn't that mean telling my parents?" 

Veronica grabbed Duke's hand with her right one, her left currently busy playing with Chandler's hair. 

"How about we work on it ourselves some more, yeah?" she asked, fiddling with Duke's fingers. 

Chandler eyed their joined hands and narrowed her eyes. 

"What do you mean, work on it more yourselves?" 

"Oh, Heather's been eating a full breakfast and keeping it down as of late," Veronica said. "I slept over the Saturday after school got out, and then I made breakfast, and I told her if she ate it and kept it down, I'd wash her Jeep, and she did. I convinced her to try and do that every day, and we've had a couple of hiccups, but it's actually going pretty good." 

"Heather, that's great!" Mac said, throwing her arms around her. 

Duke stumbled backwards a little, her grip on Veronica's hand tightening to keep hold of her, and slung her free arm around Mac's torso. Chandler, however, was still looking unhappy. 

"Not that I'm not proud of you and shit, but since when have you and Veronica been so close?" 

"Since we're both bisexual and awesome!" Veronica said enthusiastically.

"Fuck yeah!" Duke agreed. 

They let go of each other's hands just long enough to fist bump before linking their fingers back together. If looks could kill, Duke would have disintegrated on the spot. Some people glare daggers. Heather Chandler glares flamethrowers. Veronica looked back and forth between the two Heathers, one of whom was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second, shrinking into Mac like she was a squirt gun she was desperately clinging to to keep from getting burned. 

"Wait a second..." Veronica trailed off, her gaze shooting back to Heather Chandler. "Are you jealous? Of me and Heather?"

Heather let out a hmph, which basically meant, "yes, but I'm too proud to admit it." Veronica laughed, a little chuckle that slowly spread into a long, drawn out cackle that had her doubled over. Duke laughed a little, too, but her laughter was more like a nervous sounding, "heh." 

"Me? And Duke?" Veronica asked between deep gulps of air as she tried to collect herself. "Babe, we are so just friends. Best friends, yeah, but literally that's it." 

"The most platonic of friends," Duke added, still clinging to Mac with fear in her eyes. 

Chandler nodded slowly, resting her head back on Veronica's shoulder, calm once again. Duke and Mac exchanged confused yet impressed glances. Veronica just looked smug. 

"That's it?" Duke asked hesitantly. 

"Yes, Heather, that's it," Chandler said, the annoyance obvious in her voice. "Ronnie says you're just friends, so you're just friends. She doesn't lie. Not to me." 

"Because a relationship is built on..?" Veronica prompted. 

"Healthy communication and trust," Heather deadpanned. 

She shifted a little before deciding she wasn't quite comfortable and flipping around so that her head rested in Veronica's lap, her feet hanging off the bench just slightly. She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. They spent the rest of the afternoon that way, Chandler asleep on Veronica's lap, Duke and Mac playing croquet while Veronica laughed and joked with them. Then, Chandler woke up, decided she was cold, and dragged them all inside, where Veronica's mom made them hot chocolate. Mrs. Sawyer had really taken to the Heathers since Veronica had mellowed Chandler out, and they were now essentially her children. Mac's parents were neglectful, Duke's parents were so conservative that she couldn't tell them anything about her life, and Chandler's dad was, well, both an alcoholic and a workaholic, meaning he was either working or wasted, so Mrs. Sawyer had taken it upon herself to give them love and support and plenty of snacks. 

They milled about in the kitchen for a while, drinking hot chocolate and chatting with Mrs. Sawyer, before Duke and Mac excused themselves to make last minute preparations for the party. Veronica and Heather also excused themselves, heading back to Veronica's room, Heather grabbing a dry cleaning bag off of the front door handle on the way up the stairs. 

"What's that?" Veronica asked.

"Your dress for tomorrow," Heather said with a smirk, her eyes trailing up Veronica's body. 

"What's it look like?" Veronica reached for the bag, but Heather held it away from her. 

"You'll see." 

 

***

 

Veronica's dress was short and strapless and clung to her hips. If she was being honest, it was a little out of her comfort zone, but it was more than worth it to watch Heather check her out shamelessly while they got ready. Heather's was also short, strapless, and hip clinging, but where Veronica's dress flared out a good bit just below her hips, Heather's hugged her ass and thighs, and Veronica couldn't help but check her out as well. 

"Wait," Heather said while they were doing their makeup. "No lipstick yet." 

Before Veronica could ask why, Heather was kissing her hungrily, her fingers digging into Veronica's hips. Veronica kissed back just a hard. She grabbed the backs of Heather's thighs and lifted her onto the bathroom counter, moving to kiss down her neck. 

"If you leave any marks, I'll kill you," Heather said. "I don't want to have to put more concealer on my neck for this party."

Veronica murmured an acknowledgement against her skin and went back to Heather's lips. Heather kissed her for a bit before groaning into her mouth and tugging her own dress down and pulling Veronica's hands to the clasp of her bra. As if on autopilot, Veronica undid it, letting it sag for a millisecond before Heather forced the straps off of her shoulders. Veronica's mind went completely blank, barre one thought. 

Heather Chandler's boobs were out. Jesus Christ, what did she do to deserve this? 

Heather smirked at the awestruck expression on Veronica's face and slowly guided Veronica's hands to her chest. The gears in Veronica's brain kicked back to life, and she launched back into action. 

The next twenty minutes were a blur of skin and heat and  _Heather_ , of breathing _beautiful_ into the valley between Heather's breasts, of Heather's hands threading through her hair and Heather's legs wrapping around her waist. Veronica made sure not to leave any visible marks, but she was less than careful with whatever was going to be covered by Heather's dress. They both also definitely needed to redo their hair. 

"Veronica," Heather breathed. "Hey, Ronnie, we have a party to get to."

"Do we?" Veronica asked, tightening her grip around Heather, her fingers linking together against the small of Heather's back. 

Heather smiled at her and gave her a quick kiss before pushing her back slightly. 

"Yes, we do. Pass me my bra before we're more than fashionably late." 

Veronica sighed but did as she was told. Heather fixed her dress back the way it was supposed to go and grabbed a tube of lipstick, putting it first on herself and then Veronica, smirking slightly at her swollen lips. 

"Our lipstick shades can't mix during our sneaky New Years' kiss if we're wearing the same one," she said, hopping off the counter on slightly wobbly legs. Veronica grinned and followed her out of the bathroom. 

The party was already bursting with life when Heather and Veronica arrived. The bass shook the walls of the MacNamara's mansion, and dozens of sweaty bodies were jumping around on the dancefloor. The pair quickly met up with the other Heathers, who were sitting at the bar, flirting with about six guys who were hanging onto their every word, but who were shooed away by Chandler as soon as they sidled up to the bar. They chatted for a few minutes before gracing the dancefloor with their presence. Veronica was eventually whisked away by Dennis to dance to what he claimed was his favorite song, and she danced with him for a few songs before it all became a bit much for her and she excused herself. 

She found herself in the courtyard, a little ways away from the pool. The cool night air was a refreshing to the stifling heat of the party, and it felt like she hadn't breathed properly in the two and a half hours she'd been there. She'd never been much of a party person. She decided to hang out for a bit, alone with the moon and her thoughts. 

It was twenty 'til midnight when she felt a hand grab her arm. She turned around to find a tipsy Heather Chandler grinning at her and instantly grinned back. Heather's cheeks were flushed, her hair a little wild, her stance a little more lax than she usually allowed it to get. 

"C'mon," she said in the absence of a greeting, tugging on Veronica's wrist. "I'm taking you to a place." 

As vague as that was, Veronica was never one to resist spending time with Heather, so she followed her back into the crowded house and up two flights of stairs until Heather eventually dragged her into an empty guest room. She shut and locked the door behind Veronica before plopping down on the bed and tucking her legs up under her. 

"This is my favorite room," she said, looking around, still grinning. "The view from the window looks straight out into the courtyard. It's even better when your ridiculously gorgeous girlfriend wanders out there, and you can stare at her as she thinks about whatever's going on in that busy brain of hers, bathed in moonlight."

"Wow, Heather." Veronica sat down beside her on the bed, leaning in. "That's really romantic."

"Also, you're back was turned to me, so I got a great view of your ass," Heather added. 

"And, you ruined it," Veronica said, but she still leaned in to kiss her. Heather scooted away. 

"Not 'til midnight. For now, just sit with me?" 

If Veronica was honest, that was probably the first time she'd ever heard Heather frame a request as a question rather than an order. Even her actual questions came out flat, demanding. Heather seemed to read her mind. 

"You always have an option with me," she said, leaning into Veronica's shoulder. "I want you to be here because I asked, not because I told." 

Veronica smiled and rested her chin on Heather's shoulder, wrapping her arms around her waist. 

"I'd sit here with you forever." 

Heather shifted to look at her, eyebrows raised. 

"Hang on a second. I just wanna sit here for the last ten minutes before our New Years kiss. I don't have the patience or the attention span to sit forever. You know that better than anyone." 

"It's a hyperbole, dummy," Veronica said fondly. "Now shut up, I'm pondering life." 

"Veronica fucking Sawyer, you will spend the next... eight minutes talking to me so I don't get bored." 

Veronica rolled her eyes, trying and failing to hide her smile. For the remainder of that eight minutes, they talked about everything and nothing at the same time, ignoring the pounding bass downstairs and the screams of their drunk, partying classmates up until the point they began to count down. It only took those eight minutes for Veronica to realize that she was overwhelmingly in love with Heather, and it only took one midnight kiss for any hesitance to say those three words to evaporate between them. 

"I love you," Veronica said against Heather's lips. Heather pulled back, eyes wide and open and honest in a way they never were with anyone who was not Veronica.

"I love you, too."

And then everything went to shit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so two things:  
> 1) i should probably let y'all know in advance that, when i'm stuck on a chapter, i don't respond to any comments. i don't know why, but it makes me unnecessarily stressed to be interacting with readers while i'm writing. i guess i just feel like, the longer i take, the more i'm disappointing you? but i see you, and i love you, and i'll get to your comment as soon as i update, i promise  
> 2) my fav heathers fic writer apparently reads this??? like actively??? @notaguitarfret just wanna take the opportunity to say i love the tag au so much, and if y'all are looking for quality heathers fics (chansaw especially. they way they write chansaw is fucking superb) please go check them out  
> that being said, prepare for a n g s t


	11. Chapter 11

"I love you, too," Heather smiled at her, leaning into kiss her again.

Veronica's heart soared only to come crashing down at the sound of gunshots. Three. Just below the window. They looked out into the courtyard to find none other than Jason Dean standing on a rocking chair, somehow perfectly balanced and in control. Veronica grabbed Heather's arm and pulled her down so that she was hidden behind the potted plant on the windowsill. They watched the scene unfold, crouched in their hiding place. 

"Wassup, party people?" JD yelled, everyone's eyes glued to the psycho kid with a gun. "I'm looking for some friends of mine. You probably know 'em. Veronica Sawyer and Heather Chandler. They're probably off sneaking a midnight kiss, if ya know what I mean. Veronica, Heather, if you can hear me, I'm coming for you, and I'm not gonna stop until I find you. Oh, and, uh, I left some pictures of you on the bar that I think you're classmates might be interested in." 

Heather was as pale as the stream of moonlight coming through the window. 

"Pictures?" she whispered, more to herself than Veronica. "He... he has pictures."

Veronica carefully pulled Heather away from the window to the nearby wall so they could stand up straight. She wrapped her arms around her girlfriend and pulled her against her chest. Heather allowed herself to be held for a good minute and a half, taking slow, controlled breaths, in through her nose out through her mouth. 

"It's okay," she finally said. "It's going to be okay. I'm Heather fucking Chandler. Not only will I get through this, I'll make this whole situation my bitch. Come out with the moral high ground or some shit. Mac and Duke and I are closer than ever, mostly thanks to you keeping the megabitch reigned in when it comes to them, so they'll have my back, and so will you because we're in love and shit, so with our combined popularity, we can make this cool. We can make love cool." 

Veronica looked at Heather, her chin tilted upwards in the familiar superior anger, her eyes full of firey determination. 

"I know I say this a lot," she pulled Heather closer to her, "but your beautiful." 

She kissed her, long and languid, only stopping when they were interrupted by a slow knock on the door. 

"Hey, ladies," a guy said from the hallway. Jason Dean. "I have a friend of yours. Come out and play, and I'll leave her alone."

"Don't listen to him!" someone who they easily recognized as Heather Duke yelled. "I'm fine, don't listen to-" 

She was cut off by the sound of metal hitting bone and a loud shriek. Someone spit audibly, and the metallic smell of blood filled the air. Veronica looked at Heather frantically. Heather pulled her into a bathroom, slamming the door shut. 

"What do we do?" Veronica hissed. 

Heather's gaze darted across her face, from her eyes to her lips and back to her eyes. She kissed her quick and hard and passionate before slipping out of the bathroom and locking it behind her. 

"Heather, what the fuck!" Veronica yelled. 

A quick "I love you" was the only reply before Heather opened the door to the bedroom and stepped out to face JD alone. Veronica pounded on the bathroom door desperately for as long as she could before collapsing in a heap on the bathroom floor, sobbing. She didn't know how long it was before Heather MacNamara found her and immediately pulled her into a hug. Veronica melted into her embrace, still crying hysterically while Mac did her best to calm her down. 

After she'd worn herself out from crying, Veronica shakily got to her feet. Mac looped an arm around her waist, supporting her exhausted body as they made their way back out to the crowd of people waiting around in the McNamara's living room. The entire room went silent when they walked in. Heather Duke was sitting on the couch alone, a bag of frozen broccoli held to her jaw, tear tracks on her cheeks that matched Veronica's own. Veronica allowed herself to be led to the couch and sat down next to Duke, who gave her a pained look. She vaguely registered Mac sitting next to her. 

She felt like a human sandbag, like every fiber of her being was weighing her down. Her gut felt numb and empty, and her brain was short circuiting in its attempt to process everything that had just happened. It only took one remark from Kurt Kelly to get her up and running again. 

"Guess you and Heather's party trick was really just being dykes," he said bluntly. 

Veronica fixed him with a glare that would make her girlfriend proud. 

"In case you haven't noticed, dipshit, my girlfriend was just kidnapped by a fucking psychopath. I don't even know if she's still alive. For all I know, JD shot her in the back of the head and her brains are on the ceiling of his garage, so if you would just shut the fuck up for five fucking minutes before making your homophobic comments, that would be great." 

Ram eyed Veronica warily and smacked Kurt in the arm. 

"Dude, she's clearly had a rough night, stop being a dick," he muttered. 

Veronica gave him the smallest of smiles that still probably came out looking like a grimace, and Ram gave her a little head nod. Keith, who'd always been nothing but kind to Veronica, was the next person to break the heavy silence. 

"Alright, guys, party's clearly over. Let's head out." 

He ushered the people standing nearest to him out the front door and hung back to make sure everyone left, even going so far as to pluck the various pictures of Veronica and Heather making out on her couch the day before winter break. He gave the remaining Heathers an odd, two fingered salute and a worried smile before strolling out and shutting the door behind him. 

"Are you okay?" Mac asked cautiously, rubbing her back. 

"Y'know, Heather, I'm really fuckin' not," Veronica said before bursting into her second round of tears for the night. 

 

***

 

It was a long night. Veronica, Mac, and Duke all slept in Mac's big bed, all too freaked out to be alone for the night. Veronica wrapped herself around Mac, trying to ignore the fact that for the last two weeks or so, the girl she'd been wrapped around every night was Chandler. At some point in the night, Duke began to toss and turn, whimpering to herself. Veronica registered in the back of her mind that, despite countless sleepovers, this was the first time she'd seemed physically distressed in her sleep. She turned over and spooned Duke, feeling the girl relax against her. Mac turned and cuddled up to Veronica's back, obviously missing her warmth. They spent the rest of the night that way, wrapped up in one another.

The two Heathers' seemed to get a decent night's sleep, but every time Veronica closed her eyes, her mind played horrible scenes of Heather, locked in JD's basement, cold and worried, or Heather, tied up in some cave, defiantly tilting her head as she was prone to do, but shaking all over. There wasn't a cave anywhere near them that Veronica could think of, but it didn't stop her from worrying.  

Mac made Eggos the next morning. Veronica only ate to make sure Duke did. They spent the morning in a heavy, humid, suffocating fog, never leaving the downstairs floor of the MacNamara's giant house, which had never seemed more empty. Channel 8 ran a story on Heather's kidnapping. Surprisingly, Keith didn't rush to be interviewed by the news crew. Unsurprisingly, most of the other country club kids did. Courtney even had the nerve to fake cry, claiming that she just missed Heather so much. No one brought up Veronica or the pictures. The optimistic side of her liked to think it was out of human decency, but the realistic side of her knew it was just because they didn't want her to steal any of their spotlight. 

Duke took her home from Mac's at around five in the afternoon. Her mom was waiting by the door with a mug of coffee with cinnamon and a hug. Veronica practically fell into her, too tired to cry again. They watched Christmas movies that night and didn't talk about it. 

The next morning, she found a letter with no return address in her mailbox. She recognized JD's untidy scrawl and ripped it open. A picture of Heather, bound, gagged, and bloody, fell out of the envelope. Veronica pressed the photograph to her chest, breathing heavily. The next thing she knew, she was having a panic attack in her driveway at eight o'clock in the morning. 


	12. Chapter 12

_Greetings and Salutations,_

_Don't worry "Ronnie", your girlfriend's alive and more or less well. You can set her free anytime you want, but first, I have a question to pose: Would you trade her life for yours?_

_If you'll recall our parking lot conversation, I told you I was, and still very much am, in love with you. No one else in this town is like you. If you'll run away with me, I promise to take good care of you. If you don't, well, you wouldn't be a very good girlfriend would you? I have Chandler, and I have the means to dispose of her. The choice is yours._

_There's a phone number on the back of the picture you received. It's a burner phone, and I can toss it at any time, so don't even think about giving the number to the cops. You get two calls. One to confirm that she's alive, and one to set up a meeting. After that, I ditch the phone, and you can metaphorically kiss Heather goodbye. If you so choose, we can meet up at the 7/11. You know the one._

_There are rules to this meeting. You break any, and I'll shoot her._

_1) No cops. You tell an officer, she dies._

_2) Come alone._

_3) Bring enough money for a Slushee. This one doesn't really involve Heather, but hey, I have the gun, I make the rules._

_It's ultimately your decision, but I think I know what you'll choose. You have one week. After that, she... well, you get the picture._

_Yours Truly,_

_Jason Dean_

Veronica finished reading the note out loud and fell back onto Mac's bed. The other two Heathers stared at her in stunned silence as she took a shaky breath, willing herself not to cry. 

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" she asked tiredly. 

Duke slid up against the headboard and allowed Veronica to rest her head in her lap, throwing a protective arm over her waist. 

"I don't know, 'Ronica. That's... Well, it sucks." 

Veronica nodded. Mac moved to sit next to Duke and play with Veronica's hair. Veronica closed her eyes, trying her best to relax. 

"I just feel so useless, y'know?" 

"Have you used any of your calls?" Duke asked. 

Veronica shook her head, letting Mac use the opportunity to fan all of her hair out above her head.

"Haven't had the guts. I know as soon as I hear her voice, I'll break down again." 

Mac began to braid her hair. 

"You love her," she said. "Don't you, Ronnie?"

Veronica felt tears begin to prick at her eyes again. She gave up on trying to hold them back. 

"Yes," she said, full of conviction despite the fact that it felt like her throat was closing up. "So much." 

It only took a millisecond of crying for Duke to grab her wrists and pull her up into a hug. Mac joined from behind, smooshing Veronica in a Heather sandwich. Veronica couldn't help but laugh at her current scenario. 

"What's so funny?" Duke asked, still holding tightly to her best friend. 

"If you had told me at the beginning of this year that I'd be crying in front of both of you, over Heather nonetheless, I would've said you were crazy." As her watery giggles subsided, she bit her lip, trying not to start crying again. "I love you guys." 

"Love you, too," Mac and Duke said, almost in unison. 

They kept Veronica cuddled between them for the rest of the afternoon, watching MTV and playing endless rounds of Would You Rather to try and distract her. It worked for the most part. Mac did her hair into a fishtail braid, and Duke kept a firm hold on her hand. When she left that night to go home for dinner, Duke made Veronica promise not to do anything stupid. Veronica rolled her eyes but realized that it was probably smart of Duke to have her make that promise. She could be very impulsive when she was desperate. 

She spent the entirety of dinner thinking back to the letter, using the excuse that she was tired to get excused early. It was her night to do the dishes, but her parents had both seen the toll recent events had taken on her, and they'd been letting her spend the rest of winter break in her room. She couldn't help but think back to Duke's comment about the two calls she had. She was desperate to hear Heather's voice again, even if that meant letting JD hear her cry. 

She stared at the phone on her bedside table for a solid ten minutes, contemplating the consequences of using a phone call now. The week was almost halfway over. She had to do it eventually. Finally, from the safety of her room, she dialed the number. A familiar voice picked up. 

"Jason Dean's Hostage Hideout, how may I help you?"

It took all Veronica had to not threaten to hunt him down and kill him right then. 

"Let me talk to her. You said I get one call to prove she's alive, so let me talk to her."

He chuckled. He fucking chuckled. 

"Well, hello to you, too, Veronica." 

"I want to talk to Heather," she demanded. 

There was some shuffling on the other line, and then,

"Veronica?"

"Heather."

Veronica almost cried from relief right then. 

"Veronica, Jesus fuck, it's you."

"Yeah, it's me. Are you okay?"

"Okay as I can be. A little worse for wear, but that's to be expected when you're kidnapped by a fucking PSYCHOPATH!" The last couple of words were very obviously directed at JD, who was no doubt still in the room. 

"I've missed you so much," Veronica said, her shoulders sagging with relief before tensing back up almost immediately. "Wait but that picture. Why were you all bloody?"

Heather scoffed.

"Did you really expect me not to put up a fight when he was dragging me away from that party? God, Ronnie, I thought you knew me."

"True," Veronica said with a rueful smile. "How badly are you hurt? Did he give you any medical att-"

She was cut off by Heather suddenly giggling and saying, "God, Ronnie, that's naughty."

"Huh?" she asked, but Heather just continued to stage-whisper dirty things into the phone. 

"Okay, he's gone," she finally said. "You have to get me the fuck out of here. I know he's going to kill me the second he gets the chance, but he still hopes he can run away with you. Although, I'd rather be dead than have that happen."

"How do I get you out?" Veronica asked desperately. "Heather, where are you?"

"The school basement," Heather said. "I'm handcuffed to the radiator."

"I'm coming," Veronica said, hopping off her bed and getting her coat. 

"Wait! Veronica! Veronicaaaaaa!" Heather yelled into the phone. 

"Jesus, what?" Veronica said, holding the phone a little ways away from her ear. 

"You still have four days before the deadline he gave you. Think this through, okay? I want you alive as much as I want me alive."

"We've come a long way from,  _I'll crucify you_ ," Veronica joked. 

"I'm serious, Ronnie. Promise me you won't do anything stupid. Shit, he's coming back."

Veronica sighed. 

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, too," Heather said. "So much it hurts." 

"I love you," Veronica repeated. There was more shuffling. JD was back on the line.

"Hope your little chat was enough to both convince you she's still breathing and get you off." 

"I hate you," Veronica spat. 

"Our love is God," JD said. 

He hung up the phone.

Veronica pulled on her coat and walked into the living room. Her parents looked up from the TV, surprised to see her dressed and ready to go. 

"Where are you going?" her dad asked.

"Out."

"When will you be back?" her mom asked.

She looked at the both of them for a second.

"That's a good question."

She walked out the back door without another word. Taking the stairs to the porch two at a time, she grabbed her croquet mallet from it's holder in the backyard and swung it behind her head, holding it like an MLB player would hold a baseball bat. As she half walked, half ran up the sidewalk and towards the school, one thing was perfectly clear.

She was going to do something stupid. 


	13. Chapter 13

The walk turned jog turned run to school took about fifteen minutes, which gave Veronica plenty of time to angst over the last three days. She hadn't quite realized how attached she was to Heather until she was gone and there was a possibility she wasn't coming back, hadn't realized just how much she could cry and worry and _hate_ because of her. Thinking about what JD had done, she had honestly never hated anyone more. 

Every single fiber of panic and despair that had taken over her being was powering the pounding of her footsteps. She'd hated not being able to do anything for Heather, but maybe it had been good to have a few days of pain because now that she could finally take action, she had hours of Heather-deprivation to fuel her rescue mission. 

She tried every single door to the building, but they were all locked. She looked at the croquet mallet in her hand, then at the glass on the front door. Thankfully, before she could damage school property and alert JD to her presence, she spotted a cracked window, the lock completely snapped off. How very. She climbed through, feet first, pulling the croquet mallet in after her. 

Heather had said she was in the basement, hooked to a radiator. That meant she'd be in the boiler room, wherever that was. The first floor had the cafeteria and a few math classrooms, no place to put a door to the boiler room... The gym! Veronica took off, her suspicions confirmed when she saw a sleeping bag spread out on a bleacher, an open backpack filled with convenience store food tipped over and spilling slightly onto the wood-paneled floor. Had JD been sleeping here? It didn't matter. All that mattered was Heather. 

She quickly found the door to the boiler room and snuck down the stairs, croquet mallet brandished in front of her. When she reached the bottom, she threw open the door to find 

"Heather."

She was alone, sitting on the dirty concrete floor, her hair a mess and blood dried onto her skin just below her nose and mouth. She looked up at the sound of her name, her eyes going wide with panic. 

"Veronica," she hissed, "what the fuck are you doing here?"

"I came to rescue you," Veronica said. She'd been expecting a more heartfelt reunion. 

"Armed with a croquet mallet?" Heather tried to put her hands on her hips, forgetting that she was handcuffed by both hands and gritting her teeth when metal dug into her already sorry looking wrists. "You know he has a fucking gun, right?" 

"Well, he's not exactly here right now, is he?" Veronica griped. 

She strode forward and grabbed a pin from Heather's hair, wordlessly picking the locks of the her handcuffs. The first thing Heather did once she was free was pull Veronica into a hug, burying her face into her hair. 

"God, I missed you so fucking much," she said, her voice muffled by Veronica's messy hair. "Here you are, rescuing me in sweatpants and one of _my_ button up shirts, which is made of silk by the way, please give it back, brandishing a croquet mallet like the goddamn dork you are." 

Veronica chuckled, digging her fingers into Heather's shoulder blades. 

"It's been hell without you," she said. "Even with blood on your face, you look good." 

They were interrupted by a few loud footsteps and the cocking of a pistol.

"Darling, you didn't tell me we were having company," JD said. "So good of you to stop by, Veronica." 

"Fuck you," she said, her words more biting than they'd ever been. 

"I wish," JD quipped. "Anyway, have you made a decision? Who's leaving here, you or Heather?"

Veronica's nose wrinkled in disgust. 

"What kind of psychotic Would You Rather question is that?"

"C'mon, Veronica." JD took a step forward. "We could be so good together."

Gripping Heather's upper arm, Veronica took two steps back, making sure her girlfriend was behind her at all times.  

"When are you gonna get it through that thick skull of yours," Veronica said, shaking her head. "I don't want to be with you. I don't love you. I could never love you after you tore apart my relationship, after you took my girlfriend from me. You make me sick. I look at your stupid smirk and your greasy hair, and I want to vomit. I fucking hate you, Jason Dean!"

JD's jaw clenched, and he fired the gun. Veronica watched in horror as Heather swung around and took the bullet in her left shoulder, crumpling to the ground. It was like a switch had been flipped. 

She launched herself at JD, tackling him to the ground. The gun flew from his hand and skittered across the floor as JD's back and head hit concrete. Veronica raised her  mallet and brought it down on his shoulder as hard as she could. JD punched her hard in the nose and elbowed her in the stomach, but Veronica could not be stopped. She merely started smacking at his limbs instead of his chest. He landed a few blows on her, but it didn't take long for him to go limp, and eventually, Veronica was just beating the shit out of him with the croquet mallet with completely no resistance. 

Then, she felt a hand on her arm. A soft hand that wrapped it's fingers around her forearm. Heather gave a yelp of pain when Veronica tried to drive forward with the mallet again. That was what knocked Veronica out of it. 

She looked up at Heather, then down at JD, then back up at Heather before bursting into tears. 

"Did I- Did I kill him?" she stuttered. "I didn't... I couldn't have... Did I just kill someone?" 

"I hate to be the one to break up your trauma-induced crisis," Heather forced out between labored breaths, "but I think we've got more pressing matters to attend to."

Her knees buckled and she fell into Veronica, who did her best to cushion her fall. Crying even harder, she looked down at her unconcious girlfriend in her arms and felt a seed of dread plant itself in her stomach and grow through her chest like Hanahaki. With trembling hands, she pulled JD's burner phone out of his pocket and called Heather Duke. Duke could barely understand her through her tears, but she must've heard enough because within eight minutes, emergency operatives were bursting into the boiler room. 

From that moment on, everything was bright lights in her eyes and shouting and chaos, the whole world blending together into a mess of confusion similar to that of being in a car when it's pouring, the view through the windows turned to blurry watercolor streetlights, the sound of pounding rain against metal drowning out everything else. 

They had to pry Veronica off of Heather, kicking and screaming the whole way through. They put her in her own ambulance, and she sat there, covered in blood and tears, Heather's red silk shirt torn in multiple places, an emergency blanket draped over her shoulders since her coat had been lost somewhere in the hecticness of the situation. Her eyes were red and bleary, her lips chapped, her entire body shivering, and not from the cold of winter. Over the last hour, she'd slowly transitioned from desperate sobs to quiet tears that trekked down her face like drops of water from a leaky faucet. 

She only knew a handful of things, sitting in the back of that ambulance. She knew she had a broken nose and a hairline fracture in her elbow. She knew they wouldn't let Duke or McNamara back to see her, despite the countless bribes she was sure Mac had offered the paramedics. She knew they wouldn't let the cops back to see her either, not until they were sure she was in the proper state of mind to give an official statement. 

The last and most frightening thing she knew was that, of the two unconscious bodies they'd collected from the boiler room, one still had a pulse, and one did not. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know these last two chapters have been short, but i feel like when you're writing a climax like this, they're going to be? anyway, thank you all for continuing to persevere, despite the hell i'm undoubtedly putting you through. i love reading all of your comments, and i'm glad that i seem to have hooked so many of you, so continue to give me feedback, whether it's a long, drawn out analysis of my writing or simply a "fuck you for making my favs suffer"


	14. Chapter 14

There had been two ambulances that night: one that took JD and Heather straight to the hospital, and one that they put Veronica in that followed the other. She had been a much less pressing case, seeing as they only had to set and cast her elbow and nose, whereas Heather and JD were more life or death. When it came to the pair, one of them had gotten life, and the other had gotten death, and it was killing Veronica not to know which one was which.

She'd been sitting in her hospital room for over an hour (Mac had thrown some money around and gotten her a private room), and the undoubtedly alive Heathers had been trying their best to comfort her. She'd finally stopped crying only to start back up again when the doctor had to put her nose back into place, and now, with a bandage on her face and a sling for her elbow, she was sitting in between Duke's legs and holding Mac's hand. 

Mac played absently with her fingers and sang Madonna's "Like a Prayer" quietly while they waited for a doctor to come back and inform them of Heather's condition. A frazzled looking tech with a name tag sticker on his lab coat and tousled brown hair burst into the room. Mac stopped singing. 

"Your friend's alive," he said. "And stable. She's lost a lot of blood, but the bullet missed her artery by about an inch and went straight through her shoulder, just under her clavicle. It tore through her deltoid in the process, so that shoulder'll be out of commission for a while, but she should heal back alright."

Veronica's shoulders visibly collapsed in relief, and she fell back into Duke's chest, Mac's grip on her hand loosening slightly.

The tech looked around nervously before saying, "As for the other guy, well..." 

"I killed him," Veronica said, her shoulders slumping even further, this time in guilt rather than relief. Sure, JD had done despicable things, including almost killing her girlfriend, but he had obviously had some issues that needed to be worked out. In the darkest, angriest parts of her mind, Veronica may have wanted him dead, but she hadn't wanted to be the one to kill him. 

"What?" The tech looked confused. "No you didn't, kid. He killed himself. Stab wound, straight through his abdominal aorta. They found the knife plunged into his chest with his fingers still wrapped around the handle."

Mac shuddered, and Veronica unconsciously wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into her side. 

"Wait, so he commited suicide? What about when I beat him up with the croquet mallet?" 

"He's got a couple of broken bones in one of his hands, and there are bruises all over his body, including some pretty impressive ones decorating his ribcage. I guess I shouldn't call them impressive, but in my opinion, all of that's totally justified after what he did to you. I mean what a psycho, am I right?"

"He used to be my friend," Veronica said bluntly. 

"Oh, sorry then." The tech shrugged. "Anyway, you didn't hit him in the head, which is about the only way someone with your strength could really have killed him with just a croquet mallet. Scans came back, and there's no sign of blunt force trauma, so don't go beating yourself up, yeah?"

Veronica nodded. It felt like a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders. JD's death was still a tragedy, the death of anyone that young was, but she currently had enough going on without blaming herself for the murder of a classmate. 

"Can I see her?" she asked. 

The tech looked at her and seemed to melt under her hopeful gaze. Or maybe it was the fact that she looked like hell.

"We normally don't let anyone in but family while they patient's unconscious, but since you went through all that, I don't see why we couldn't make any exception. I'll talk to the doctor." He looked around her hospital room. "Speaking of family, where is yours?"

"My mom's getting me some coffee, and my dad has a really big day at the office, so once he made sure I was okay, he went back home to get some sleep." 

He nodded in approval and left, holding the door open for Veronica's mom, who was carrying a drink holder with four styrofoam cups of coffee. She distributed one to each of the girls and took the chair next to Veronica's bed, clutching at her daughter's free hand. 

"How ya feeling, sweetheart?" she asked, biting her lip and widening her eyes almost comically.

"Well, I'd feel better if I had a free hand to drink my coffee," Veronica quipped. 

Mac and Mrs. Sawyer let go of her hands and crossed their arms almost in unison, making Veronica truly laugh for what felt like the first time in days. Her mom beamed at her, her eyes twinkling in a way that seemed to say,  _there's my Veronica._ However, before she could actually take a sip of her coffee, a nurse entered the room and pointed to Veronica, motioning for her to follow her. 

After a few moments of struggling to untangle herself from Heathers Duke and Mac, Veronica's hospital sock-clad feet hit the tile, and she left the room as fast as her stiff legs would carry her, not even bothering to shut the door behind her. The nurse let her into the room, and Veronica's heart stopped for just a second. 

Heather looked so small in the dark room, hooked up to a heart monitor and a couple of bags of fluids and various medication. Now that the dried blood had been cleaned from her face, Veronica could see the dark circles under her eyes and the split lip. Her hands lay on top of the covers, leaving her wrists exposed, which were covered in ugly purple bruises. Unlike Veronica's room, which had had at least two other people in it since she'd got there, Heather was all alone. 

"Do you want the lights on?" the nurse asked.

Veronica shook her head no, stepping forward to grab one of Heather's hands and sink to her knees next to the hospital bed. 

"Where's her dad?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"We couldn't get in touch with him," the nurse replied. "Sad, isn't it? He's all she has left, and he's not even there for her."

"He's not all she has left," Veronica corrected, not looking up from Heather's face. "She has me. I'm sure I've proven that tonight."

"You have," the nurse agreed. "I'll leave you with her, then."

Veronica waved goodbye, still not looking up. 

"You're not alone," Veronica whispered. "You have me, and Heather, and Heather. And my mom. You have us, and we're all rooting for you to stay strong."

 

***

 

Veronica must've fallen asleep at some point because the next thing she knew, Heather was trying to wake her up. Wait. Heather. She sat bolt upright, almost running into Heather's face on the way up. Heather backed up. 

"Jesus, Ronnie, that's the exact kind of awakening I was trying to avoid."

"Then why didn't you just tap me?" Veronica asked.

Heather rolled her eyes.

"Because dipshit, you're holding my hand so hard that it's a miracle I haven't lost circulation, and my other arm does not function at the moment because, in case you didn't notice, your wannabe boyfriend shot me."

"JD's dead," Veronica said. She wasn't sure why she said it. Maybe it was because it was just now starting to sink in. Heather's face softened immediately. 

"Oh my God, Ronnie, are you okay?" she asked, seeming to remember the state Veronica was in before she blacked out. 

"Oh, no, I didn't kill him," Veronica assured her. "He stabbed himself."

Heather gave her a sideways glance. 

"Well, my mother used to tell me,  _if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all._ "

The sentiment was a little morbid, but it was such a Heather thing to say that Veronica couldn't help but smile. 

"So the nurse came in to check my vitals a little while," Heather said. "She says I'm doing pretty fucking superb, so that's good. Oh, and Mac, Duke, and your mother stopped by as soon as they let me have visitors. Mac and Duke looked exhausted, so I sent them home, and your mom's working on getting you discharged without having to go back to your hospital room, but they'll probably cave since they always need rooms in the ER."

"Woah, how long have I been out?" Veronica asked, stifling a yawn. 

"I dunno, I was unconscious, too," Heather reminded her, the endearing  _you fucking idiot_ hanging in the air. "Finally, some good fucking sleep. It wasn't exactly the ideal way to get it, but hey, whatever works. Anyway, I waited about an hour to wake you up because, out of the goodness of my heart, I'm going to let you in my bed, but I had to psych myself up for how much it's going to hurt when I have to scoot over." 

Veronica was torn between longing for the soft bed and desire for Heather to never have to suffer ever again, but before that side could win out, Heather was already sliding slowly to the side. By the time she'd created enough space, she was breathing heavily through grit teeth. 

"The hole in my shoulder's a bitch," she muttered as Veronica climbed in next to her. She looked down at her attire and frowned. "God, and these hospital gowns are tragic." 

She tugged at the fabric with irritation. Veronica looked at her girlfriend, pale and shaking ever so slightly from the blood loss, wearing an ugly hospital gown that was hanging open off of her injured shoulder, her red hair stuck to her forehead with sweat. She felt warm and, honestly, kinda sticky against Veronica's side. She still smelled like Snuggle. She was battered and bruised, but she was alive and  _Heather_ , and in Veronica's humble opinion, she was breathtaking. 

"You're beautiful," Veronica said, threading her fingers with Heather's. 

Heather scoffed. 

"I'm gross and sweaty, and my lip's all busted." 

"Yeah." Veronica smiled. "But you're still beautiful. You're always beautiful to me." 

"Fuck my busted lip," Heather said, capturing Veronica's lips with her own. 

As they kissed, it occured to Veronica this was the first time they'd done so since Heather had been taken. She grabbed at Heather's waist and felt Heather cup her jaw, ignoring the pain in her broken nose when Heather brushed her thumb against her cheekbone. They lost themselves in kisses and  _I love you_ 's, and the dull ache that'd taken residency in Veronica's chest for the past four days finally subsided. 

If either of them noticed Veronica's mom open the door only to turn around and close it back, they didn't give any indication. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are y'all good now


End file.
